The Price of Shadow
by Carly Sullivan
Summary: In his first days as Ranger 1, Sinclair opened the Rangers to humans. This is the story of how one man found his place there.
1. The Price of Shadow 1/4

The Price of Shadow  
Part 1  
  
  
  
A rivulet of sweat curled around her right shoulder blade and skittered down her   
spine, puddling up and soaking into the fabric of her shirt just at the point   
where the rope cinched it close to her waist. The slender woman tested the   
tension on the lifeline again and dug her boots, one by one, into firmer spots   
in the sandy soil. Convinced that the harness would hold, she removed one   
gloved hand from the tether and used a forearm to wipe the salty beads from her   
face. The leather of the gauntlet gave off its musk as she exercised cramped   
fingers. Deep in ancient centers in her brain, the animal scent stirred a   
primitive sense of danger. She glanced around her, even as she felt   
embarrassment prickle at her cheeks. It would scarcely do for a scientist of   
her training to be given to irrational impulses and urges. They were alone, she   
knew, not only because the spot was remote and unattractive to tourists, but   
also because only fools and archeologists would be out on the Kalahari in the   
noonday sun.   
  
Despite that searing heat, a shiver creased the skin on the back of Saada   
Akirai's neck. Her body trembled slightly, perhaps chilled by an unexpected   
breeze, perhaps shaking off an unexplained dread. Her hands found slack in the   
rope, and fighting panic, drew back on the tether. A long sigh escaped her when   
she felt tension, the sound of the exhalation startlingly loud on the silent   
savanna. Aiyanna was making her way back up finally.   
  
As she gathered in her partner's safety line, Saada wondered if their roles were   
oddly reversed. Her life had been devoted to the study of xenoarcheology;   
Aiyanna's studies were in planetary history and galactic civilizations. Somehow   
the archeologist always seemed to wind up in the base camp, record keeping,   
while the historian rigged up and went spelunking to find the next dig site.   
Still, they had been friends since childhood, roommates at university, and their   
lives at times seemed so intertwined as to be indistinguishable.   
  
Two soles appeared in the entry to the tiny crevice, and Saada smiled at her   
mental word play. Setting aside the coiled rope, she reached past the well-worn   
climber's boots to grab hold of the safety harness and extricate her friend from   
the narrow passage.   
  
"You never can pick the easy ones, can you?" she teased, as the grimy body of   
Aiyanna Trudeau sprawled back across the clay of the pan.   
  
"Just be glad I'm not claustrophobic," the red-haired beauty gasped. She paused   
a moment to quiet her breathing then pushed herself to her feet.  
  
"So," Saada asked, rising with her, "what's it look like in there?"  
  
Slowly, silently, a luminous smile spread across Aiyanna's face. "It's amazing,   
Saa. Not a hundred feet in, the passage widens. I could crawl, almost stand in   
some places. And then the tunnel ends."  
  
"Ends? As in dead-end?"  
  
"As in sheer cliff face drop, several hundred feet, straight down." She   
flinched at the memory, a giggle squashing the fear. "But, Saa, down there,   
there's something down there. Structures..."  
  
"Rock formations."  
  
"No, structures. Constructions, not accretions. There are signs of a   
civilization down there. We have to dig."  
  
"Aiyanna, don't be ridiculous. It's too far from the main site. Do you have   
any idea what kind of funding we'd need to move camp here and start all over   
again? There's no credible reason to believe we should begin a whole new   
excavation out here."  
  
Trudeau dipped long, slender fingers into the breast pocket of her shirt,   
drawing back her hand with a graceful twist of the wrist. On her upturned palm   
was a fragment of stone, its contours too complex to have been carved by nature,   
its markings alien and inscribed. "How about this?" Aiyanna asked.  
  
"You found it in there?"  
  
The woman nodded. "There are more, Saa, lots more. I couldn't carry and crawl   
back out, but that cavern is marked all up and down with this script, and so are   
the structures below."  
  
The young archeologist lifted the specimen gingerly, turning it over, examining   
the markings. She had never seen their like.   
  
"We need to go back to the university," she murmured.   
  
"Good," Aiyanna replied, "that will make your brother happy." She climbed into   
the ground car. "Let's go, woman! We've got work to do."   
  
==========  
  
Aiyanna navigated the ground car back to the main dig site at a pace that seemed   
calculated to engender terror. It was almost enough to distract Saada from the   
piece in her hand. Its runic markings had been carefully carved, their edges as   
straight and clean as if cut by laser. The characters themselves were jagged,   
asymmetric gashes with spiky embellishments. Studying them, she felt an   
irritation stirring in her, a defensive annoyance without obvious cause. She   
closed her hand around the rock and shook off her discomfort as the jeep jounced   
to a halt.   
  
There were things to be done if she was to leave the dig site for more than a   
few hours. She concerned herself with delegating responsibility and giving   
instructions, leaving it to Aiyanna to gather what belongings they needed to   
take with them. She made no statements about the length of her absence or about   
the reason for it. The runes on the stone fragment left imprints on the palm of   
her hand as she kept it tightly concealed there.   
  
The jeep was running by the time she finished with business. Aiyanna had thrown   
two daypacks and a couple of canteens in the back and was waiting behind the   
wheel. Saada had scarcely hoisted herself into the seat when the vehicle   
lurched into motion.   
  
"So, do we go straight to Mitchell to do a funding pitch?" Aiyanna asked when   
they had cleared the outskirts of the camp.   
  
"Are you joking? We can't begin to pitch this. We've got to research these   
markings, check back through the records for other digs at or near this site,   
scour the history books - your department, I might add - for some indication of   
what civilizations were in this area and when. We've got a lot of homework to   
do before we can talk to anyone about this."   
  
"May I point out to you that we did most of that research before we started this   
dig? The markings, yes, we need to check out, but if you don't recognize them,   
and I don't recognize them..."  
  
"Yes, fine. I don't think we're going to find these markings in any reference.   
But we're talking about asking the university to authorize and fund another dig.   
We've got to have our ducks in a row before we approach them or we'll get   
laughed right out of the office."  
  
"Hold it. We're not talking about a new dig. We're talking about moving the   
dig. Yes, that will take some additional funding, and we're going to have to go   
down deeper, obviously, which will mean heavy equipment."  
  
"And you know that trying to run any tech out here is a problem and problems   
cost. And we're not just moving the dig. We may be able to relocate the   
workers and the equipment, but this isn't a related excavation, Yani. This   
isn't related to anything." Her voice dropped as the last sentence escaped, and   
though she knew her partner was looking over at her, she did not raise her eyes   
from the object in her hand.   
  
"Saa? Are you OK?"  
  
A shudder ran through the dark beauty before she raised her head again. The   
landscape of the savanna stretched on all sides of them, behind them the dusty   
browns of the desert, here beside them, the honey and gold of dried grassland,   
and off ahead the hints of green that signaled that the land grew capable of   
supporting life. And over it all, the orange orb glared. The sun would be long   
gone by the time they reached their destination; they could not yet even see the   
city on the horizon.  
  
"We've got a long ride, Yani." Saada reached back for her daypack and wrestled   
out a pad and pen. "Tell me more about what you saw down there."   
  
For several hours, Aiyanna recounted her observations while Saada recorded,   
sketching maps of the crevice and the structures her friend described. She   
prodded the conversation with questions, pushing for clarification, for detail,   
as far as patience would allow. When Aiyanna's story was exhausted, Saada   
continued to sketch, copying the runes on the stone in her hand, imagining what   
strokes had carved them and what they might mean. Only when light failed did   
she put away her pad. The stone she kept on the flat of her hand, as if some   
mottled creature slept there.   
  
The city was quiet when they reached their flat, the only activity in dreams and   
shadows. They spoke in hushed voices of sleep, but Saada could not rest.   
Abandoning her bed for her desk chair, she ordered a computer search of ancient   
languages. How could she narrow this search when she did not know where to   
begin? She decided, arbitrarily she knew, that this was not an alphabet but   
rather a hieroglyphic system of communication. She called up known systems,   
looking for resemblance. Nothing. She abandoned her hypothesis and searched   
for alphabets, but there were so many and it was so late. Saada slept with her   
head on her desk.   
  
==========  
  
When dawn roused her, she showered and dressed quickly. There was no reason to   
leave a note for Aiyanna; she would know where Saada had gone, where Saada   
always went when she had a puzzle to solve. With each footfall on the marble   
steps that led to the university library, she mentally ticked off one step in   
her plan of attack. She needed to date this thing, and determine how these   
markings were carved. If they did prove to be related to a known language, she   
would probably need help from a linguistics expert to get them translated. She   
had to plan the dig, budget it, write up her proposals. Backing. She would   
need to have support from others in the department, others whose opinions and   
reputations carried more weight with the university than hers did. She halted   
under the dome of the lobby. From the ground up. Geology first, she thought,   
turning left.   
  
She found her favorite table, and the one beside it, occupied. Two different   
screens flickered in the library's subdued light, each reporting a different   
computer search. Books - the old, print versions - lay here and there on the   
tables, some open, their yellowed pages fluttering, others closed, stacked atop   
one another or serving as paperweights. Spread across every available surface   
were maps, huge, unwieldy, highly detailed representations of what even a quick   
glance told her was not Earth. In the midst of it, a slender figure adjusted   
oversized glasses and mumbled to himself.   
  
"You're in my seat." It took a moment for Saada's remark to provoke any   
reaction from Kijana Akirai and a moment more before he recognized the speaker   
as his sister. The radiance of his smile embraced her even before he rose, long   
arms spread wide to enfold her, moving round the table to greet her, upsetting   
piles of papers along the way.   
  
"What are you doing here?" he asked as she helped him collect the scattered   
documents. "I thought you were on a dig?"   
  
"I was." She handed him the last few sheets and dropped into a chair. "And   
what are you doing here in rock hound territory?" she asked, surveying the   
clutter.   
  
"Oh, research." He sighed. "I don't think you can say anything intelligent   
about economics unless you understand the industries that build that economy."  
  
"So, in order to write about the economy of..." She looked more closely at the   
maps. "...of Mars, you need to understand geology?"  
  
"Mining, actually, but you can't make sense of that without some geology. "  
  
She swiveled a stack of books around to read the spines. "KJ, some of these   
ought to be reclassified as history, possibly ancient history. Twenty first   
century geological surveys?"  
  
"Just trying to understand what got Earth interested in the first place." He   
collected some of his materials, stacking and organizing them, clearing a space   
for his sister's work. "And what about you? What's dragged you back into town?   
Couldn't resist the invitation to the President's reception?"   
  
She winced. "We will have to go to that now, won't we?"  
  
Kijana looked up from the vid screen that had distracted him. "We? Yani came   
with you?"  
As Saa nodded, he repeated his question. "What brings you here?"  
  
The tremble in her voice shocked her as she explained. "Aiyanna found a cave,   
really just a crevice, about a mile from the dig site."  
  
The interruption had a tone of mingled concern and irritation. "Saa! You   
didn't let her go down. You know that sandy soil..."  
  
An upraised hand silenced her brother. "Yani's fine," she said, addressing what   
she knew was his primary concern. "I wouldn't have let her go if it had been   
sandy, but it was in the pan. And yes, I know everything you're going to tell   
me about clay, and yes, we took all possible precautions." Kijana scowled but   
allowed her to continue. "She found something, KJ, something that could be   
major." She drew a small bundle from her daypack and unwrapped the stone. "She   
was only able to bring out one sample, but if what she tells me is anywhere near   
accurate, it could be a major new find."   
  
"Strange markings. What are they?" He adjusted his glasses for a better look   
at the object.   
  
"If there's an answer to that question, it's one of the things I need to find   
today," she replied. "I don't think we've ever seen it before, KJ, and yet   
there it was, just a day's trip from the city."  
  
"One stone, Saa." He shook his head skeptically. "It could be a couple of kids   
with a secret code, or..." In answer, she slapped her notebook into his hand and   
watched with a mischievous delight while he scanned the notes and sketches. A   
long, low whistle was his only answer.   
  
"I've got to get funding to go in there, Kijana."  
  
"The university will never go for it. You're among the elite as it is because   
they haven't pulled your current funding out from under you."  
  
"I have to make them go for it, KJ. We have to get in there."  
  
"You'd have more luck with commercial funding."  
  
"Oh, no. I'm not handing the find of a lifetime over to IPX. This is mine."   
  
He closed the notebook. "I would suggest, then, that you get to work on your   
research. You're going to need to have answers to every question the finance   
committee will ask and six they haven't thought of yet. You're going to need   
more than one artifact and the account of a hallucinatory girl to convince   
them."  
  
"I'm telling Yani you said that."   
  
"Tell my beloved anything you like. No matter how much we love her and trust   
her, no matter how certain we are that she's an excellent, accurate reporter,   
the committee will dismiss her account. I suggest you try to get back in there   
and bring out some more hard evidence. And I also suggest," he said, tapping   
the notebook against her knee, "that you take precautions to protect your   
research, or you're likely to see your discovery turned into a tourist   
attraction."  
  
==========  
  
"These are volatile times, Captain. Practicality is more important than   
principles, if lives are to be saved. I'll expect to hear from you soon."  
  
Captain John Sheridan waited for the image of Senator Elise Voudreau to   
disappear from the Babcom screen before he allowed himself a scowl. He linked   
through to Michael Garibaldi and asked the Security Chief to report to his   
office. With a sullen sigh, he poured a fresh cup of coffee, but it did nothing   
to wash away the bad taste that woman had left with him.   
  
"You wanted to see me, Captain?" The voice from the doorway startled him.   
Garibaldi always managed to do that, somehow, as though he was always lurking   
around the corner, in the shadows.   
  
"Thank you, Mr. Garibaldi, come in. Coffee?"   
  
"Don't mind if I do, sir. Thanks."  
  
Sheridan installed himself behind the desk and motioned Garibaldi to a chair.   
"Michael, how much do you know about Mars?"  
  
"We talking astronomically?" He didn't wait to see if Sheridan would smile.   
"That's a rather open-ended question, Captain. I lived there, worked there, but   
then, at least for a while, so did you. I became far too well acquainted with   
far too many bars scattered under those domes, but I don't think you're looking   
for a recommendation on the best Jovian sunspot. What is it you want to know,   
Captain?"  
  
Sheridan nodded. "Michael, I just had a call from Senator Voudreau." He pushed   
on to quiet the annoyance in Garibaldi's face. "I don't like her either, and I   
don't mind telling you I didn't like the content of the call. Still, if there's   
any possibility of truth in what she says, we ought to check it out. I want   
current information on the Mars Conglomerate, and on Future Corp."  
  
"You want an economist, Captain. I'm a security specialist."  
  
"You're an information specialist, Mr. Garibaldi. I've learned that much   
already, and I've learned not to question how you come by that information."   
Sheridan rose from his chair and moved around the desk. "What I want isn't   
profit and loss sheets. Mars conglomerate, Future Corp, and the Free Mars   
group. Give me a full report on all of them, and particularly any connections   
Taro Isogi or Amanda Carter may have with them."  
  
"Beggin' your pardon, Captain," Garibaldi said as he stood to face his   
commanding officer, "but am I furnishing this information to you or to Senator   
Voudreau?"  
  
Sheridan smiled. "You do get right to it, don't you, Mr. Garibaldi?" He was   
silent for a moment. "No, I'll have to say something to the Senator, but we'll   
decide what's appropriate to share with her later. This stays here, Michael, on   
Babylon 5."  
  
"Yes, sir." The chirp of his link cut off further comment. "Garibaldi, go."   
  
"Chief, we have a report of an assault, possible fatality. Blue seven. Med   
team is scrambling. Ms. Winters was a witness."  
  
"I'm on my way," Garibaldi replied, exchanging glances with Sheridan.   
  
==========  
  
"I hate this!" Saada Akirai's declaration lacked the vehemence to be more than   
a plaintive wail.   
  
"Don't whine, Saa." Aiyanna leaned closer to the bathroom mirror to apply her   
mascara. "No one has ever died from formal wear."   
  
The other woman sneered while trying to find her balance in high-heeled pumps.   
"Tell me again why going to this reception is a good idea?"  
  
"You're going to schmooze the people you need to back you on the new project.   
I'm going to network for a job in a field I actually know something about. And   
we're going to keep your brother out of those idealistic political arguments he   
gets into at these things." At the sound of a chime, Aiyanna spun gracefully   
away from the mirror and glided toward the door. "And that would be him now.   
I'll get it. You almost ready?"  
  
Saada only sighed. She examined herself in the mirror, fussed with a bit of   
makeup until her patience evaporated, and declared herself done. Slowly,   
carefully, she made her way to the living room.   
  
"Ah! I shall have a beauty on each arm," Kijana teased on seeing her. She   
envied the ease with which her brother carried off these social rituals. She   
was far more comfortable in climbing boots and khaki.   
  
The reception at the President's residence was a semi-annual event and something   
of a command performance for any scholar who was hoping to have the university   
fund research. Since that eliminated a very few independently wealthy Ph.D.s,   
the crowd was thick by the time they arrived. Kijana introduced Saada and   
Aiyanna to Mrs. Mitchell at the door, then pushed his way through the crowd to   
find the bar. Their hostess, by now inured to compliments on a home that   
belonged more to the university than to her, soon moved on to greet the next set   
of arrivals. With no sign of Kijana, Saada scanned the crowd for a familiar   
face.   
  
"Doctor Akirai! Saada!" Her eyes followed the voice to a figure at the patio   
door. "Over here."   
  
She smiled and returned the wave from Emil Hutcheson. "Aiyanna, I've just   
spotted Professor Hutcheson out on the patio," she whispered. "I'll be out   
there, if KJ ever reappears." Her friend, already engaged in meeting and   
greeting, nodded distractedly. It took several minutes to slither through the   
clumps of people that separated her from Hutcheson, a trip punctuated by   
greetings from faces she recognized but didn't remember.   
  
"Well, now, we'd almost given up hope for you," Hutcheson joked as his raised   
his glass to her. The cool night air on her face made her aware how flushed she   
was, though whether from the exertion of fighting her way out here or from her   
general discomfort at these affairs, she wasn't sure.   
  
Hutcheson extended an arm to draw her into the group around him. She exchanged   
greetings with several of the university's would-be celebrities before her old   
professor began. "Senator, this is the young genius I've been telling you   
about." As the gentle flush in her cheeks grew bright red, Saada followed his   
glance to a slim brunette. "Saada Akirai, Senator Elise Voudreau." The   
introduction was, from Saada's perspective at least, altogether unnecessary.   
Elise Voudreau rarely let a week go by without finding a way to claim a sound   
byte on the evening news.   
  
"It's an honor to meet you, Senator," Saada lied as she accepted Voudreau's   
handshake.   
  
Her best politician's smile firmly in place, Voudreau gushed, "Emil has spent   
the entire evening telling us how proud he is of his latest protégé. It's clear   
you're going to set the field of xenoarcheology on fire."   
  
"From your lips to God's ears," Saada replied, though she was fairly certain   
that the Senator and God were not on speaking terms.   
  
"Dr. Akirai has a regrettable streak of modesty that will cause her to dismiss   
my superlatives," Hutcheson explained, "but she is one of the most talented   
young scholars our department has seen in quite some time."   
  
Saada tried to smile. "I do hope you'll remember that the next time we talk   
about funding."   
  
There was good-natured laughter all around before Hutcheson continued. "I'm not   
a money man, thank goodness. I'd be crazed if I had to play that game. You   
know I'll go to bat for you though, Saada, for whatever that's worth." He   
turned to the senator. "She has an astonishing instinct, an intuition for the   
work that's a gift, plain and simple. And she backs up her work with thorough   
scholarship, in our own field and the supporting disciplines. I think that's   
what impressed me most. Dr. Akirai has a multifaceted intelligence. She could   
be a star in any field she chose. We're just lucky she chose ours."  
  
The voice came from behind them. "Professor! And here I thought I was your   
favorite student!" Saada was not convinced that the speaker was joking, but   
Emil Hutcheson turned and greeted the stylishly dressed man with much the same   
enthusiasm he had shown for her.   
  
"Well, for heaven's sake! When did you get back to Earth? Last I heard you   
were gallivanting all over the galaxy!" The dark-haired stranger offered no   
response other than a thin smile, and his gaze never left Saada's face. "Come,   
let me introduce you!" Hutcheson presented the man to Senator Voudreau, and   
implicitly to the others, as Dr. Morden, a former student, one it was clear had   
impressed the old man.   
  
"It's a pleasure, Senator." Morden managed to nod to everyone in the group   
without seeming to take his eyes from Voudreau's. "The professor is right. I   
haven't been back planetside very long, but I must say I'm already well aware of   
the wonderful work you've been doing." The practiced smile did not slip from   
Elise Voudreau's face, but a shimmer of relaxation in her shoulders let Saada   
know that Morden's flattery had successfully massaged the senator's ego.   
  
"I suppose I should be annoyed that he left academia," Hutcheson explained,   
"but Morden has done such brilliant work since he left us for IPX that I can't   
hold a grudge. You two should get acquainted," he continued, waving his glass   
between Morden and Saada. "Now, that would be a team!"  
  
"Team? Are we choosing up sides?" Kijana appeared in the doorway, an angel   
sent to save her from another uncomfortable situation. Aiyanna was with him,   
and perhaps the greatest mercy, they had brought her a drink, some of which she   
actually got to consume, since Hutcheson took over introductions.  
  
"I warn you, Senator," Hutcheson concluded, "Dr. Akirai has a reputation around   
campus as a most persuasive debater. Give him half a chance and he'll have you   
joining Free Mars." There were polite, if nervous, titters.   
  
"Well, I'm sure your rhetoric is impressive, Doctor, but I doubt that will be   
happening. I am fascinated by your field of study, however, Ms. Trudeau.   
Galactic civilizations?"  
  
Aiyanna laughed charmingly. "In another era, it might have been called   
anthropology, Senator, but as humans came to understand that they were not alone   
in the universe, the field became much wider and the name no longer fit."  
  
"And do you have an area of concentration within the field or do you literally   
study the entire galaxy?" There were sputters of laughter from several in the   
group, and Voudreau cast an irritated glance around her.   
  
"I'm sorry, Senator," Aiyanna explained, "it's not you. There's an old joke in   
the field about doing your concentration in Vorlon, because, of course, there's   
nothing to do. Actually, I did concentrate my studies on Minbar, although I   
confess we don't have a great deal more there than with the Vorlons. It is my   
hope that with the new relationships being forged with both the Minbari   
Federation and the Vorlon Empire through the Babylon Project, there may be new   
opportunities for research, perhaps even a scholar exchange program."  
  
"Would you seriously want to live among the Minbari?" Voudreau inquired.   
  
"The best way to understand a people is to live among them, speak their   
language, learn their customs," Aiyanna said. Voudreau's eyes narrowed in what   
Saada thought might be anger or cunning.   
  
"At least you can breathe their atmosphere," Hutcheson interjected. "Didn't I   
hear that the Vorlons are methane breathers?"  
  
Voudreau took the opportunity to lighten the mood. "Have your hearing checked,   
Emil. I said the Vorlons were mean creatures not methane breathers." The   
obligatory chuckles were interrupted by an officious male voice.   
  
"Actually, all that we know is that the Babylon station was required to provide   
quarters for the Vorlon ambassador which supported a methane-rich atmosphere.   
We do not know if in fact the Vorlon respiratory system requires methane. The   
ambassador has only been seen in an encounter suit, which may contain some sort   
of breathing apparatus. We of course do not know what the Ambassador may do in   
the privacy of his quarters."  
  
"But I'll bet we've got a department somewhere working on that," Kijana quipped.   
  
"Wesley, it's a party," Voudreau admonished the newcomer. "Try to pretend   
you're off-duty." To the rest of the group, she said, "Have you met   
Commissioner Paoletti?" The rigid little man nodded unsmilingly at each in   
turn. "Wesley is part of the start-up team for the Ministry of Peace."  
  
"Ministry of Peace?" Kijana asked, his brow furrowed.   
  
"The objective of the Ministry of Peace," Paoletti explained, " is to help   
humans find peace with themselves, so it will be easier to attain peace with   
other planets. We will have a number of new programs beginning shortly toward   
that end."  
  
"I always thought helping people find peace with themselves was the job of   
religion. Please don't tell me EarthGov is going into that business now too?"   
Saada could tell from the stutter in her brother's voice that Aiyanna had just   
elbowed him a warning.   
  
Voudreau gave the silence just time enough to become awkward. "Wesley," she   
said finally, "Ms. Trudeau has an interesting background. She sounds rather   
like the kind of person your office is looking for." Most of the world would   
not have seen any change in Kijana Akirai's expression, but his sister   
recognized the little tremor in his jaw that meant he was not happy with this   
turn of events.   
  
"Is that so, Ms. Trudeau? Perhaps we could chat a bit." Wesley Paoletti's new   
found charm was slippery enough to make Saada share her brother's concern. The   
senator moved quickly to divert Kijana's attention from his fiancée, and   
Hutcheson, seeing greener social fields in which to browse, wandered off,   
leaving Saada alone with Morden.   
  
She cast about for small talk. "I take it you were a student of Professor   
Hutcheson, Dr. Morden?" Gradually they worked their way from the incredibly   
obvious to the merely obvious things they had in common: favorite professors,   
areas of specialization, years in academia. All the while she could hear   
snippets of KJ's conversation with the senator. They spoke of Kijana's latest   
research, which naturally led to debate about Martian independence initiatives.   
While she tried to respond coherently to Dr. Morden's questions about her   
research, she listened for any sign that her brother's conversation might be   
growing heated. By the time she managed to frame a question about Morden's   
work, the Senator's voice had grown strident.   
  
Clumps of people around them grew silent as Voudreau accused Akirai of fomenting   
terrorism. "I beg your pardon, Senator?" Akirai's question was hushed, the   
barest impression of sound on breath.   
  
"It is precisely this sort of glorification that feeds the blood lust of the   
Free Mars faction." Wesley Paoletti moved quietly to the senator's left elbow,   
leaving Aiyanna standing alone studying Kijana's face. "The very notion that   
the agitation of these guerillas represents a movement serious enough to warrant   
academic investigation is an insult to the patriots who gave their lives to   
build Mars Colony."  
  
Kijana was skilled at capitalizing on the dramatic moment, Saada knew, but the   
pause he took now was several beats longer than she found comfortable. "I'm   
sorry you feel that way, Senator," he said finally, his voice even. His body   
was still, even the tiniest muscles frozen with control. "Personally, I believe   
that as a free society we must have the right to investigate all the components   
of our society, since it is only when we understand something that we can make   
an intelligent judgment about its worth. It should be noted that the Free Mars   
faction is only one manifestation of the call for an independent Mars, a call   
that has been heard almost as long as there has been a Mars colony." He moved   
an arm now, finally, and Saada felt herself relax with him. On the other side   
of the patio, Aiyanna breathed again.   
  
"Experience has shown, Doctor, that moving speeches about freedom often come   
from the mouths of subversives." A slight turn of the head and a slow blink   
were the only indication Akirai gave that the remark had come from Wesley   
Paoletti. He returned his gaze to Senator Voudreau before responding.   
  
"Humanity's progress has been fueled by the quest for freedom. And experience   
has shown..." He waited a beat. "... that when we would rather label a speaker   
than listen to his words, both peace and freedom are in jeopardy."  
  
There was more to this argument, Saada knew. Paoletti's mouth was open to   
respond but Voudreau laid a hand on his arm. Her stare lingered on Akirai a   
moment, then wordlessly she crossed to the patio door where Kenneth Mitchell had   
just appeared. Slowly, the groups scattered here and there on the patio   
returned to quiet conversation. Mitchell and Voudreau vanished, and Aiyanna   
moved to join Kijana.   
  
Paoletti, off his leash, could not resist a parting shot. "The Ministry of   
Peace exists to ensure that humans are free to live in peace. If you endanger   
that peace, Doctor, all your rhetoric will not save you."   
  
==========  
  
Kijana Akirai pushed his glasses up and rubbed at his eyes. The bounce and bump   
of the tube car's motion made it impossible for him to do the kind of close   
reading he had planned in preparation for this meeting. He snapped the computer   
off to save the power cell, and tipped his head back. Muscles in his neck   
argued loudly with that decision, drowned out only by the scream of friction as   
the car rounded a curve. Obviously, he would not sleep either.   
  
It was clear to him by now that this line of the tube system did not rate the   
new-technology, high-speed, low-noise bullet cars that zipped around the main   
domes. That was probably fair, since the line served only as a shuttle to a   
cluster of mining colonies. Daily traffic was minimal, evidenced by his current   
isolation in the car. He guessed it got some use on the weekends when miners   
went looking for strong drink and gentle company.   
  
Now it carried a weary researcher to a series of pre-arranged meetings with site   
managers and Mining Guild representatives. He smiled as he heard the echo of   
Saada's exasperated challenge. She was probably right; what he needed to know   
probably was in some database, or could be elicited in an interview over com   
channels. But he couldn't help himself. Even as a child, he had needed to   
understand things from the inside out, to experience them, not just read about   
them. It was a peculiar frame of mind for an academic, and one that had driven   
his teachers mad.   
  
It was not that he didn't trust what he read. He had always loved to lose   
himself in the ideas he found in his reading, fiction or philosophy, poetry or   
politics. He would, if pressed, confess a fondness for print media, however   
archaic it might seem. There was something about the weight of a book in your   
hand, the dry crackle of the pages, the smell of the lifetimes of dust, and the   
scribblings and dog-ears of those who had read before, that made the ideas feel   
that much more real. Aiyanna would say too real.   
  
His face darkened as he remembered their last conversation. She was furious   
that he would pursue this line of research after the confrontation with Voudreau   
and Paoletti, and his attempts to point out that he had not yet written his   
paper and thus no one actually knew his thoughts on the matter did nothing to   
defuse her anger. She was, he knew, simply worried about him, so in the end he   
had tabled all he might have said about academic freedom and freedom in general,   
and simply held her close.   
  
He shook his head as if to clear away a dream when the grinding metal of the   
brake system signaled the terminal. A short walk through the decrepit terminal   
and down increasingly dingy streets led him to his first appointment. The   
bustling Martian economy certainly wasn't bestowing its benefits on this area.   
That realization Akirai mentally filed away for another investigation. He had   
other questions right now.   
  
The questions he put to the first site manager were factual ones about the   
stages in the mining operation, the ore brought out, and the refining process.   
They talked at some length about the problems of adapting earth processes to the   
Martian environment and the advantages and disadvantages of the lower Martian   
gravity. Akirai inquired about the competition among the various mining sites   
both for resources and for market.   
  
"That's one of the strange things about Mars, Doctor," explained the brawny man   
across from him. "I started out in the mines on Earth. I was a digger, moved   
up to foreman and then manager, before I transferred out here. On Earth, the   
worst thing that can happen is to have a competing company try to work the same   
territory. Everybody makes their stake, and except for a couple of bad boys,   
everybody stays in their own backyard.   
  
"Up here, it's like the Promised Land. You pull it out of the ground, and Mars   
Conglomerate buys it. It's almost silly to use words like competition and   
market. Anybody who wants to dig this planet is welcome, and you can sell as   
much as you dig."  
  
"Doesn't that depress prices?" Kijana's head tipped toward his shoulder as he   
tried to determine if he was being sold a bill of goods.  
  
"Price is set between Mars Conglomerate and the home office," the man explained.   
"Doesn't change whether we just make quota or we double it."  
  
"Who sets quota? And how, under those circumstances?"   
  
"The smart boys in the home office wave their figures and formulas and charts   
and graphs around, but for what I know, they could pull the number out of a hat.   
I just know what my people can reasonably do. I figure my job is to take care   
of them. There aren't a lot of people looking out for the miners, Doctor, but I   
came up through the ranks and I know that if your people don't trust you, they   
won't produce for you."  
  
Kijana remembered the rundown character of the buildings he had passed, and for   
a moment, he considered asking the manager about that, but he had other   
appointments to get to, and this man had work to do. Akirai thanked him and   
took his leave.   
  
As he spoke with other site managers over the rest of the day, Akirai tested the   
story he had heard that morning. One after another, the managers gave the same   
report. Mars Conglomerate would buy as much as they could produce, standard   
price, no questions.   
  
"And this is true for all of your production? Not just for certain more   
valuable minerals?"  
  
"There's nothing particularly exotic in what we're bringing up, Doctor. Iron,   
copper, selenium, tellurium, osbornite, antimony, arsenic."  
  
"Arsenic?" Akirai's eyes widened.   
  
The site manager laughed. "Yes, doctor, it is poisonous, but so are a great   
many common substances. You read all those old murder mysteries as a kid,   
didn't you?" Kijana acknowledged with an embarrassed smile. "Well, I wouldn't   
worry about the arsenic, Doctor. Nowadays, if you want to poison someone you'd   
look for one of the crazy cocktails the lab folk whip up. Designer drugs,   
designer poisons."  
  
Akirai thanked the man for his help, although it was an unsettling ending. In   
the tube car on the way back to the hotel he tried to take stock of what he had   
learned. More about the actual process of mining than he probably wanted to   
know. A breakdown of the minerals Martian mining operations produced. Not as   
much as he had hoped about the bankrolling of the operations. Questions that   
needed to be asked about why the profits from this industry weren't showing up   
in the workers' living conditions. And the clear message that the Martian   
mining industry violated the common understanding of supply and demand.   
  
All the managers had told him their production was purchased by Mars   
Conglomerate. Perhaps the single buyer was causing the system to behave in ways   
that resembled a monopoly rather than a free market. Still, a monolithic force   
in the market would drive prices to its advantage, and didn't seem to be the   
case.   
  
Akirai flipped open his computer and made a note to call the offices of the Mars   
Conglomerate. He needed to see the mining industry from their point of view.   
Words triggered memory and memory triggered a smile. His own little   
conglomerate would like him to understand their point of view. He made a note   
to call Aiyanna and Saada.   
  
==========  
  
The concussion sent an explosion of sound echoing through the vault of the   
reading room. On all sides, heads lifted and swiveled toward the source of the   
crash, and near the door, the librarian on duty rose from his seat. Saada   
Akirai, her face warm with anger and embarrassment, mouthed an apology and sank   
into a chair. She slid the briefcase that had collided with the tabletop to one   
side, braced her forearms on the table, and dropped her head down onto her arms.   
  
Her morning had been spent with the finance committee, trying to convince them   
to authorize the funding to move her current dig to the new location. It was   
clear, even before she mentioned the heavy equipment that would be needed   
because of the depth of the excavation, that she did not have a receptive   
audience. She had done her homework, and had taken to heart KJ's admonition   
that she needed more physical evidence to make her case. Unlike Aiyanna, she   
was a bit claustrophobic, and a shudder ran through her again as she remembered   
shimmying into that crevice. True to Aiyanna's account, the passage did widen,   
however, and the contents were as astonishing as she had described, and more.   
There were indeed structures and the suggestion that at least some of them might   
be mechanized. The civilization they had stumbled on might be even more   
advanced than they had originally thought.   
  
The committee, however, cared about none of that. Anger prickled along her   
spine and pulled her upright as she remembered the infuriating session. They   
had scarcely looked at the artifacts she brought. Her written analysis sat   
unopened on the table before them. The chair refused to allow her to present   
visual materials to support her research and interrupted her in the middle of   
her presentation. Professor Hutcheson had attended, as promised, but her hopes   
that he might act as an advocate for her were misplaced. Her jaw tightened as   
she remembered her mentor sitting in silence, refusing even to make eye contact   
with her.   
  
Clearly, the committee's negative response had been decided before she ever   
began. She wasn't sure if she was angrier because they had refused to hear her   
out or because she had wasted all that time in preparation when the subject was   
already closed. Now here she was with no money and a briefcase full of rocks.   
  
Saada shook herself physically to cast off the unpleasant daydream. Her left   
hand slid across the leather of her briefcase. She had her rocks and she had   
her research. Somewhere there was a funding source that would appreciate what   
she had here. She snapped on the computer and set to finding it.   
  
==========  
  
"Dr. Akirai?" The voice pulled her gaze up from the vid screen. She squeezed   
her eyes shut against the gritty burn of unvarying focus and unshed tears, then   
opened them slowly to find a dark figure over her, silhouetted by the skylight   
above. Saada rose quickly, less in courtesy than in defense. As the change in   
their relative positions eliminated the backlighting, she recognized the man   
from the president's reception.   
  
"Good afternoon, Dr. Morden," she said. The automatic 'nice to see you again'   
got trapped in the clawing discomfort in her gut and never made it out.   
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt your work, Doctor, but I wonder if there is a time that   
we might talk?" Saada hesitated. "About your latest project?"  
  
"My project, Doctor Morden?"  
  
"I hope you won't think he was betraying a secret, Doctor, but Professor   
Hutcheson told me you have an interesting new find. He indicated that you were   
seeking funding for what could be an exciting new dig."  
  
Skepticism and anger mingled to leave a sour taste in Saada's mouth. She forced   
a swallow and then spoke. "Well, it looks like that project is going nowhere   
fast, Doctor." As her hand caressed the computer, she looked down to rub away   
an imaginary smudge. "The university will not fund me," she said, straightening   
her shoulders and meeting his glance squarely, "and I've exhausted just about   
every source of funds without success."  
  
"Not every source, Doctor. That's why I'm here. I believe my associates and I   
may be able to help you find the funding you need."   
  
Saada's next breath jumped from her lungs, a snort of thinly veiled disgust.   
"With all due respect, Doctor, I'm not ready to turn this over to IPX. This is   
still a research excavation, not a commercial salvage."  
  
A specter of a smile slid up Morden's face and crinkled his eyes. "I understand   
your reluctance, Doctor. The corporation has at times been, shall we say,   
overeager. I'm not suggesting Interplanetary Expeditions as a source of   
funding. They would want to control the operation, and I'm certain that was not   
what you had in mind.   
  
"No, Doctor, I'm suggesting more of a private investment situation. My   
associates would be willing to provide seed money, enough support to set up the   
preliminary dig and determine if extended excavation is warranted."  
  
"Who decides that?"   
  
"Obviously, my associates would determine whether they were willing to commit   
further funds, but if they chose not to do so, you could, of course, then seek   
other funding."  
  
"And the materials taken from the site during that preliminary dig? To whom do   
they belong?"  
  
"I would hope that eventually any materials of value would become the property   
of a reputable museum." His smile chilled her. "But in the shorter term, they   
would be yours, of course."  
  
"You do realize that even a preliminary excavation is going to have to be a deep   
dig. We'll need heavy machinery, engineering..."  
  
"I'm certain that your budget will be adequate, Doctor. Do I take it that you   
are interested?"  
  
Saada's galloping brain balked, sending her imagination somersaulting over her   
conscious mind. Her eyes searched Morden's face as though some clarification   
might be found there.   
  
"Do you have a proposal, Doctor?" Morden went on without waiting for her reply.   
"Something I might show my associates?"  
  
Startled out of her paralysis, Saada glanced to the briefcase still bulging with   
documents for the morning's presentation. "I do, Doctor. But tell me a bit   
more about your associates."  
  
"Private investors, as I said, Doctor, and they prefer to remain in the   
background. Silent partners, if you will."  
  
"You use the plural, Doctor Morden. You represent more than one individual?"  
  
"Yes. A consortium, you might call it."  
  
"Earth based?"  
  
Morden's head pulsed to the left, his eyes leaving hers for the first time. A   
rapid, almost imperceptible movement, it might have passed as a nervous tic in a   
man less unctuous. "My associates are spread all over known space, Doctor.   
They have, as a group, no allegiance to any of the known races, and so no bias -   
positive or negative - in choosing worthwhile investments."  
  
"May I ask where else they've made investments, Doctor? And why you think they   
would be interested in my work?"  
  
The tic again. "Most recently, on Centauri Prime, Doctor, but you must   
understand that in order to maintain their privacy, I'm not at liberty to give   
full details." He waited for her to force the expected smile before continuing.   
"As for your work, that is why they retain me. My associates put great faith in   
my recommendations, Doctor. Please understand that the proposal is a mere   
formality. You have your funding."  
  
Saada Akirai rummaged in her briefcase and extracted a copy of the proposal,   
which Morden accepted with thanks. He left her there in the library, but not   
before assuring her again that she had the funding she needed. Alone, Saada   
dropped into her chair. As she watched Morden depart, the air around him seemed   
to shimmer, like the heat mirages out on the savanna. She rubbed at tired eyes,   
snapped off the computer, and wondered what had happened to her enthusiasm.  
  
==========  
  
"How can I help you, Doctor?" The bureaucrat who greeted Kijana Akirai managed   
to put an edge of contempt on the title. Akirai took a long breath to quiet his   
defensiveness.  
  
"Thank you for seeing me, Mister Conrad. I'll try not to take too much of your   
time." Conrad had no comment. "I'm trying to understand the dynamics of the   
Martian mining industry," Kijana explained, filling the silence. "This is part   
of a larger piece of research, and I just have a couple of questions." Nothing.   
"I understand that Mars Conglomerate buys the output of all the mining   
operations on the planet." A nod. Progress. "And is it true that the   
conglomerate purchases all the ore produced, regardless of the amount?"   
  
"Yes." Conrad exhibited a stillness that Akirai thought should only be possible   
under meditation or medication.   
  
"Is the ... How is conglomerate able to process all the ore that's produced?"   
Avoid yes/no questions.   
  
"Resources are limited here on Mars, Doctor. We're grateful for whatever can be   
found."   
  
Stock answer. "So then the processed minerals are used here on Mars?"  
  
"No, not all of them."   
  
"Which are used here, Mister Conrad, and which are sent off-planet? And, if I   
may ask, where do they go?" Wear yourself out, Conrad.   
  
"The ore is processed here on Mars. Companies within the conglomerate refine   
the ore into seven distinct mineral elements: iron, copper, selenium, tellurium,   
osbornite, antimony, and arsenic. Each of the elements finds its way into the   
production of manufactured goods that improve the quality of life here on Mars,   
at home on Earth, and on other colonies."   
  
Akirai was certain he had read those exact words in one of the brochures in the   
waiting room. "Could you be a bit more specific, Mr. Conrad? Are there certain   
minerals that stay here on Mars and others that are exported? Or do you export   
your surplus in all categories?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?"   
  
Check the teleprompter, Conrad. It wasn't that hard a question. "Is it   
directed processing?" Akirai clarified. "Does all the selenium, say, go to   
earth, and the arsenic to Proxima? Or does Mars take what it needs and then   
sell off the rest?"  
  
"It would not be appropriate for me to reveal the conglomerate's accountings,   
Doctor."  
  
"I'm not asking for the numbers, Mr. Conrad, just an idea of the game plan.   
Let's take, I don't know, osbornite. Is it earmarked in advance for export?"  
  
"Why do you ask?" Kijana's explanation froze somewhere between brain and   
tongue. Conrad wasn't just obtuse; he was deliberately avoiding the question.   
Passivity was giving way to rigidity in Conrad's demeanor, and forcing the issue   
would yield nothing.   
  
"No reason. On another subject, Mr. Conrad, could you give me a breakdown of   
the individual companies within the conglomerate?" That question was apparently   
in the man's script. Conrad set off on a romp through a well-practiced PR   
recitation about each of the Mars Conglomerate members. Pulling out his   
notepad, Akirai mimed intense interest.   
  
"You mentioned Demeter & VerDien, Mr. Conrad. Am I correct that they run the   
largest refinery here on Mars?" Conrad responded affirmatively. "Would it be   
reasonable to think then that a great deal of the refining of ore from the   
Martian mines is done by D & V?" Akirai waited while Conrad did another   
promotional recitation for D & V. "Do they process the arsenic?"  
  
Conrad looked startled. "Why, yes."  
  
"You'll have to forgive me, Mr. Conrad. I'm like a little boy sometimes. But   
when I was growing up I read a lot of old mystery stories in which arsenic was   
used to poison people - illegally, of course." He smiled, but Conrad did not   
join him. "I've always wondered. What is arsenic used for, legally, I mean?"   
  
"Actually," Conrad said, with the faintest trace of a smug smile, "the principle   
uses of arsenic in our era are in the production of pharmaceuticals."   
  
Akirai consulted his notes. "That would be Edgars Industries then?" He waited   
while Conrad did his recitation on Edgars. "So Edgars gets all the arsenic?"   
He waited for the nod. "But what did you tell me about the copper?" He paged   
through non-existent notes. "Does that go to Edgars too?"  
  
"No, no. Earth is the principal consumer of copper."  
  
"So arsenic to Edgars, copper to earth, and tellurium is divided, am I right on   
that?" Another nod. "I think I have this now. Oh, I did have one other   
question, if I may?"  
  
Conrad's tranquility returned. Akirai decided he had seen a nod and pressed on.   
"In a market where Mars Conglomerate is the only buyer, Mr. Conrad, why is the   
conglomerate willing to pay the same rate at all times? Why create a situation   
of unlimited demand? And having created it, why not allow the price to float   
with supply?"  
  
A true smile spread across Conrad's face, the kind of smile that a seasoned   
bureaucrat reserved for those moments of perfect beauty when he could pass the   
buck. "You will have to speak with EarthGov about that, Doctor. Rates are   
reviewed by a commission every five years. We have no say in that."   
  
Recognizing his cue, Akirai rose to take his leave. He gathered up his   
briefcase, tucking it under his left arm. With his pad still clutched in one   
hand, he gripped his pen with his teeth, freeing a hand long enough to balance   
his coat over one shoulder. "Fank you," he pulled the pen from his mouth,   
"thank you, Mr. Conrad. This has been so helpful." He rustled through the   
notebook as Conrad escorted him to the outer office. "Arsenic to Edgars, copper   
to earth. And where did we say osbornite went?"  
  
"Good day, Doctor. If you'll excuse me, I have another appointment." 


	2. The Price of Shadow 2/4

The Price of Shadow  
Part 2  
  
  
  
==========  
  
She arrived promptly at the appointed hour. Actually, it was a few minutes   
before, since she kept her chrono set a bit fast to guarantee promptness.   
Passing the mirror in the foyer, she instinctively checked to see that her   
titian tresses were still tightly locked in their braid before giving her name   
softly to the maitre d'. Wordlessly, he led her to a table at the rear of the   
dining room where Wesley Paoletti stood beside his chair.   
  
"Thank you for coming, Ms. Trudeau." The maitre d' pulled out her chair and   
waited only long enough for her to settle herself.   
  
"I must say your call was a surprise, commissioner. I'm not quite sure why..."   
  
"I invited you for a business lunch, Ms. Trudeau, but that first requires lunch.   
Then we can talk. Would you permit me to order for both of us?"   
  
Aiyanna agreed, and as Paoletti instructed the waiter, sat wondering why all   
this charm had not been apparent at the president's reception. Over the   
appetizer, Paoletti explained the reason for his call.   
  
"I hope you won't be offended, Ms. Trudeau, but I've done a good bit of checking   
on you." She was, if not offended, certainly shocked and a bit nervous, but it   
would not serve to say so. "It was the mention of your concentration in Minbari   
civilization that caught my attention. If the Ministry of Peace is going to   
establish a world in which humans can live at peace with all races, it is vital   
that we have people on our staff who truly understand those races: how they   
live, how they think, what they value."  
  
Perhaps it was the thrill of the job offer she now anticipated, or perhaps it   
was the wine Paoletti ordered with their main course, but as their meal   
progressed, Aiyanna found herself relaxing, smiling, growing almost giddy.   
Paoletti had clearly done his homework. He knew the names of courses she had   
taken and the professors who had taught them. He seemed as interested in her   
opinions of her teachers as in her reactions to their courses.   
  
Over dessert, the commissioner inquired about her hobbies and used her mention   
of spelunking to segue into questions about her friendship with Doctor Akirai.   
Both Doctors Akirai. "I understand you and Doctor Akirai are planning to marry.   
When is the happy day?"  
  
Aiyanna blushed a bit. "We haven't set a date as yet," she explained. Ever   
practical, she and KJ had agreed not to make firm plans about when or where to   
set up housekeeping until she had found a job.   
  
"So the doctor wouldn't object to your taking a position in Johannesburg, with   
the Ministry of Peace?"   
  
"Are you offering me a job, Commissioner?"  
  
Paoletti nodded as he sipped his coffee. "I've spent the last few weeks   
assembling my team, Ms. Trudeau. A Minbari specialist was the last piece I   
needed to put in place. If you're agreeable, we'll assemble in Johannesburg and   
begin our work the first of the month."  
  
==========  
  
After the third sharp stare from a neighboring table, Kijana stopped long enough   
to put the computer on silent operation. It would slow him down to do it this   
way, but at least he wouldn't be asked to leave. He had been working in   
alternation, setting the computer on a search and turning to the library's   
ancient books and records to find other answers. He had counted on the chime to   
alert him to the completion of the search, but now he would have to rely on   
visual indicators.   
  
Records of the Mars colony went back to the 22nd century, and discussion and   
planning tracked back even farther. Most historians tied the date to John   
Carter, seeing his expedition as the change from exploration to stable   
settlement.   
  
An indicator blinked in the lower right hand corner of his screen. Not the   
search results. Just mail. Later.   
  
Contrary to what some of EarthGov's top names tried to say, calls for Martian   
independence were not a new phenomenon. He had found references to independence   
movements as far back as the fifth year of the colony. There was even an   
article that predated Carter's flight and outlined a process for the stable and   
gradual transition from colony to independent state.   
  
Another blink, this time his search. He marked his place in the documents and   
turned to the computer.   
  
What he found more difficult to trace were the reasons for Earth's opposition to   
an independent Mars. Every indication was that maintaining off-world colonies   
was difficult and expensive, and the hostility of the Martian environment made   
it more difficult and more expensive than most.   
  
The database had in fact produced little of use, but some of the results pointed   
him in new directions. A couple of articles he tagged to read later then   
started yet another search. He scowled at the mail indicator blinking at the   
bottom of the screen. It was a distraction, a false reading, but the only way   
to eliminate it was to open the mail. For now, he would rather return to his   
documents.  
  
Throughout history, when major powers refused independence to colonies, an   
economic motive was apparent. His exploration of the Martian mining industry   
had begun as a search for the economic explanation of Earth's reluctance to see   
Mars stand as an independent state. What he found instead was a policy of price   
fixing and unlimited demand that seemed calculated to destroy any economic   
advantage there might be.   
  
The tiny flash reflected in the lens of his glasses. His concentration would be   
nonexistent until that indicator had been cleared. Reluctantly, Akirai turned,   
used the motion to stretch cramped muscles, and gave a long yawn before opening   
his mail.   
  
The hollow in his stomach was not relieved by the second reading. To be told -   
not asked - to see President Mitchell at 4 p.m. was not joyful news. He was   
being called on the carpet, and he suspected he knew why. He checked his   
chrono. Three fourteen. If he hurried, he could make back-up copies of his   
research outside the university network.   
  
==========  
  
He arrived at the administration building at 3:56 and presented himself in   
Mitchell's outer office at 3:59. Kept waiting as expected, he tried to   
anticipate the upcoming conversation. Each envisioned scenario called for a   
slightly different style of response, but when he was allowed entry at 4:12 he   
felt prepared for whatever exchange might ensue.   
  
Conversation was not on President Mitchell's agenda, however. Kijana was given   
opportunity to say little beyond "good afternoon" and "yes, sir" while Mitchell   
made it abundantly clear that the direction of Akirai's research was of concern   
to the university. He was not told directly to abandon his work, nor was his   
funding withdrawn, but the threat was clear. He was not asked nor allowed to   
defend his work, his position, or himself, and at 4:29, he was dismissed.   
  
==========  
  
He signaled at the door and waited for the identity check. At the appointed   
hour, Aiyanna would have been waiting by the door to bypass the electronic   
security. But he was early, considerably so, and even his impetuous fiancée had   
the good sense to screen callers. She was surprised to see him since dinner was   
barely started, but she happily put him to work slicing mushrooms.   
  
"Your sister sends her apologies and a bit of good news. She dropped her things   
and went straight out to the site. Apparently she got funding to move the dig   
to the new site."  
  
"Really?" He set the knife down long enough to adjust his glasses. "I thought   
the finance committee would give her a much harder time."  
  
Aiyanna wrinkled her nose. "Apparently, they did. She said she found her   
funding elsewhere."  
  
"And she's acting on it already?"  
  
"So it seems." A cloud of steam rose from the stove as Aiyanna deglazed the   
sauté pan. With a flick of her wrist, she swirled the liquid around the vessel   
then presented it to him for the mushrooms. "I've got some good news too," she   
said as he gathered the pieces to add to the dish. He tipped his head back to   
look at her, brows arched in an unspoken question. Only a warm smile came back   
to him until she had settled the pan back on the stove. Then she slipped into   
the chair beside him.  
  
"I've been offered a job," she said, taking his hand. "I had a lunch meeting   
today with Commissioner Paoletti from the Ministry of Peace. He wants me to   
start the first of the month as their Minbari specialist."  
  
He was silent longer than he knew he should be. "When did all this develop?"   
He tried to make the question sound joyful.   
  
Aiyanna's smile was constant. "Paoletti called me Tuesday and asked me to have   
lunch with him today. He didn't tell me what it was about."  
  
"You didn't tell me that."  
  
"You were so tired when you got back from Mars that I just wanted to see you get   
home and get some rest. I figured it was nothing, anyway."  
  
"And you've got the job, just like that?"   
  
She rose to tend the stove and threw a glare over her shoulder. "Just like   
that? I'd like to think my incredible qualifications had something to do with   
it."  
  
Mercifully, she did not appear angry, but it had been a narrow escape for him.   
He rose and joined her at the stove, slipping his arms round her waist from   
behind. "I'm sorry, darling," he said, nuzzling her neck. "Of course, they   
recognize your brilliance."  
  
She swatted him playfully and slipped out of his grasp. "I just meant," he   
continued, choosing his words carefully now, "when did they ask for your CV and   
your references?"   
  
"They didn't ask me for them." She set the table as she spoke. "But Paoletti   
said at lunch that they'd already done some checking on me, so I guess they got   
my file. Do you want to open the wine?"  
  
A quick flick of the blade against the overcoating exposed the cork, but Kijana   
could not so easily uncover the ominous instinct gnawing at him. As he twisted   
the screw into the soft flesh of the cork, he tried to model the appropriate   
reaction. "Well, if I had known it was to be a celebration, we could have done   
champagne."  
  
Through the course of the meal, Akirai tried to swallow his misgivings. His   
beloved was radiant with excitement, and her innocent pleasure in this new   
adventure was delightful to watch. As they moved to the living room after   
dinner, she peeked at him. "I thought I might go on ahead, and see what sort of   
flats are available." Her voice trailed off, its inflection hinting at a   
question.   
  
"On ahead?"  
  
"To Johannesburg," she explained. "If I wait until the first, I'll be working   
days and looking at flats at night, and living in a hotel besides. If I go up   
now, I can find us a place before I have to start work."  
  
Johannesburg. He hadn't made that connection. Of course, the Ministry of Peace   
would be headquartered in the regional capital. The silence in which he   
processed that information lasted a beat too long.   
  
"KJ, what's wrong?" She slid to the edge of the couch, her hand trembling   
halfway to his. "Are you having second thoughts..."   
  
He swept her into an embrace. "No, Yani, no. Sweetheart, I love you, you know   
that." He angled her body backward so that he could look in her eyes. "Yani, I   
love you," he repeated, "and I have no doubts about us. I want us to be   
together and I want it to be forever." She nestled back against him, and he   
held her silently for a time, knowing his next words must be carefully chosen.   
  
His fingers traced the ridge of her spine, and when she giggled, he kissed her   
hair. "Yani, we made a decision to wait, to be sure that we started our life   
together the way we wanted it to be. It hasn't been easy for either of us, but   
now finally, it seems like things are falling into place." She pushed away from   
him, and he knew she heard the impending 'but.'   
  
"This just came on so quickly, Yani. The part of it that means we can move   
forward is fantastic. I just..." Storm clouds gathered in the green sky of her   
eyes. "Is it wrong for me to worry about you? I'm sorry. I can't help it. I   
love you. All I want in life is your happiness."  
  
"This makes me happy."  
  
"I know. It's just..." He was not accustomed to being at a loss for words.   
"We've just heard of the Ministry of Peace a few days ago, and now, with nothing   
more than a lunch as process, you're joining them." He reached out to embrace   
her but she shook off his hands. "Yani, I know you'll be brilliant in the job,   
but doesn't it feel a little strange to you?"  
  
"KJ, this is the chance I've been waiting for. I'm not about to start   
complaining that it was too easy. Little enough in life ever is."  
  
"I know." He swallowed again, but that bad taste was still there. "I know."  
  
She turned her back to him then and walked to the window. The distance between   
them was more than the mileage from Windhoek to Johannesburg. As she sensed his   
approach, she spoke. "Should I be looking for a flat for two in Johannesburg?"   
she asked, tears in her voice.   
  
He took her by the shoulders and turned her to him. "Yani, there is nowhere I   
want more to be than where you are." Enfolding her in an embrace, he crooned   
softly into her hair, rocking in time to his little chant. "You go on ahead,"   
he whispered finally. "I'll come and help you look as soon as I can."  
  
"Let things here wait, KJ. Let's go to Johannesburg together."  
  
Her enthusiasm coaxed out his smile but reality beat it back. "I can't, Yani.   
I'm already booked on the Mars Shuttle that leaves tomorrow."  
  
"Mars? You just got back from Mars!"  
  
"I know, Yani, but there's more research I have to do. After this trip, I can   
finish up what I need to here, and then look for work in Johannesburg."  
  
"Finish up? Finish up what?"  
  
"Yani, I'm in the middle of a major piece of work. I can't just drop everything   
and move to Johannesburg. There's research I should do here, where mining is a   
primary industry. The material I need will be easier to find." He started to   
pace as his mind raced ahead. "Once I get down to actually writing, I can join   
you in Johannesburg, at least most of the time. I'll need to find a venue to   
present the paper. It could be anywhere. There's no one site for symposia   
anymore. But I can't sever ties with the university here until I present."  
  
"KJ!" Her voice slapped at him. "Listen to yourself. You're obsessed with   
this Mars business. You don't have to go on with this. Johannesburg is a   
center for economics. You can find a position there and begin a new course of   
research. Something current, something that will put your name in the center of   
things."   
  
She laid a hand on his arm, gently. "You said you worried about me, Kijana.   
Well, I worry about you, too. And if you persist in this Mars research, KJ, I'm   
afraid. There's going to be trouble. There are too many people who will not be   
happy with the hornet's nest you're stirring. There will be pressure on the   
university and that will get passed along as pressure on you."   
  
"It already has." He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't tell her about his   
meeting with Mitchell, but the story came tumbling out.   
  
"That ends it then. You have to drop it, KJ. Come with me to Johannesburg.   
You'll start over. You'll work on something safe."  
  
"Yani, I can't just walk away from this. The very fact that there's pressure   
being put on me may be a sign that I'm on the verge of something important."  
  
"And it may be a sign that you're on the verge of something you should not be   
involved with!"  
  
Anger rushed up his spine and filled his head with noise. A great wave of air   
filled his lungs as he prepared to shout over the pounding. Both hands raised,   
he clasped his head and blew the air out in a sigh. "Please, Yani, let's not   
argue about this." He took her hands. "Each of us has something we need to do,   
and each of us is worried. Go to Johannesburg. Find us an apartment. As soon   
as I can get back from Mars, I'll join you there."   
  
She stood silently staring down at their joined hands. "What do you say, Yani."  
  
"I'm not sure I want you to come to Johannesburg," she said. She did not look   
at him.   
  
"You just said..."  
  
"I don't know if I want to start a new position at the Ministry of Peace being   
seen with someone who refuses to drop what he has been told is an inappropriate   
line of research."  
  
"Yani!"  
  
"I'm sorry, KJ. That's the way I feel right now. This job is important to me."   
She didn't say 'more important than you are' but he heard it any way. He felt   
his head bobbing as though of its own volition. "Maybe I'll feel differently   
tomorrow," she offered, but the words held little hope.   
  
"Well." He drew a breath and looked around. "I guess... I should probably go   
then." He crossed the room and released the door latch. "I'll call you before   
I leave for Mars."  
  
==========  
  
He should not be here. He knew that. He should be down in Economics trying to   
find other documented cases of infinite demand. He should be searching   
government records for a better understanding of the Martian colonial   
government. Instead, he sat here, curled in a corner on the floor, an ancient   
copy of Voltaire in his hand.   
  
He flipped the pages aimlessly, searching not for a text but for the peace the   
text would give him. Peace of mind, peace of spirit. This was where they   
lived, here in the old volumes, the pages filled with grand ideas and elegant   
words. He would come to visit them, to live a while among them, and when he   
left, a memory of that peace would go with him.   
  
Peace. Now Earth had a Ministry of Peace, and Aiyanna was to be a part of it.   
He flipped the pages. Could a ministry, a government, truly make peace? Was   
peace created, or was it learned? Or, in his case, borrowed? His eyes drifted   
up from the book in his hand, glided over the shelves of antique volumes. He   
had borrowed much over the years. He owed a great debt.   
  
He turned back to Voltaire but he did not see the words. Debts owed assaulted   
his mind. How would he ever reconcile the balance sheet of his life? He had   
tried to fulfill his responsibilities to Saada, watching over her since their   
parents' deaths, although he was her elder by scarcely a year. He owed it to   
Aiyanna to let her ride the thrilling currents of this new job, to support her   
as she so patiently had supported him as he established his career. What of his   
debt to himself, to his own conscience?  
  
He wondered, as the familiar words went by, if Senator Voudreau read Voltaire.   
He wondered if she would defend to the death his right to speak and if he would   
do the same for her. He knew now that President Mitchell would not defend him,   
no matter how much lip service he paid to academic freedom.   
  
Freedom. How many pages in how many books were spent in the attempt to define   
freedom? A principle, a need, a hunger, a lust...but whose freedom? After   
centuries, who understood what freedom meant? Did he? Did Voudreau? The   
Ministry of Peace? Or Free Mars?  
  
When great principles are in conflict, how do you compromise? Kijana Akirai had   
no answers even as he climbed to his feet to return the book to its place. Can   
a man, this man, sacrifice a bit of freedom for the sake of peace? As he   
flipped the pages one last time, he wondered what Voltaire would say. On a   
random page, the words came into true focus for the first time.  
  
"It is dangerous to be right when the government is wrong."   
  
==========  
  
"We live for the One. We die for the One." Those words echoed in Jeffrey   
Sinclair's brain long after the ceremony ended. As he smiled his way through   
the reception afterward, he was unsure what he should be feeling. He had opened   
the Rangers to humans as well as Minbari; this class was the first to include   
them. He was pleased with that, and proud.   
  
It was his own role in all of this that troubled him. In a few hours, after all   
this bowing and backpatting was done, he would give each member of this new   
class an assignment, and for most, it would be a place of danger. Leading   
people into battle was something he understood; sending them out to die was not   
a role he welcomed.   
  
As soon as propriety allowed, Ambassador Jeffrey Sinclair slipped away to his   
office. He settled as comfortably as he could into the efficient minimalism of   
the Minbari décor and began a final reading of the files on his newest Rangers.   
He was a third of the way through when the door signal chimed. Sinclair looked   
up, startled to realize the room was now in darkness. He called for lights then   
called the open command.   
  
In the doorway stood a human in the uniform of the Rangers. "Forgive me,   
Ambassador," said the pale figure, bowing slightly, "I know how busy you are."   
  
Ranger One rubbed tired eyes. "Come in, Latimer. How can I help you?" He   
tried to remember what he knew of the new Ranger. An Earther, in his thirties,   
originally from...was it Geneva? He hadn't gotten to the Ls yet.   
  
Latimer stood at attention before the Ambassador's desk, looking to Jeffrey   
Sinclair's weary eyes as nervous as teenager on his first date. What would he   
be asked to do? "Ambassador, I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour. I realize   
I should have made an appointment."  
  
"It's all right, Latimer. You've done me a favor. I needed a break. Please,   
sit down. What can I do for you?"  
  
The Ranger perched awkwardly on the edge of a chair, arms and legs so coiled   
with tension that Sinclair thought he would rocket away at the merest touch.   
"Ambassador," he began, finding eye contact and immediately dropping it again,   
"I know that you'll be making decisions about our assignments shortly." He   
glanced up and Sinclair nodded. "Sir, there's information that I've never given   
you, which could be relevant, and I wanted to tell you before you made your   
decisions."  
  
Irritation straightened Sinclair's spine and the tiny muscles round his eyes   
fluttered as he tried to keep his face impassive. Any man who would come to him   
looking for special treatment had no business in the Rangers, and he intended to   
tell Latimer just that.  
  
"Ambassador, I never listed this under special training or skills, and I never   
told anyone about it, and maybe it has no relevance at all, but I wanted you to   
know that I am a physician. University of Edinburgh Medical School.   
Xenobiology undergraduate. Residencies in surgery and trauma. If my medical   
training can be useful anywhere, Ambassador... well, I wanted you to know."   
  
Relief rushed through Latimer's body almost as quickly as the words rushed from   
his mouth. His piece said, he crumpled just a little, for the first time   
sitting in the chair rather than on it. Sinclair's fists pushed into the   
desktop as his body rose out of the chair, and he stared silently at Latimer as   
he came around the desk.   
  
"That's one hell of a chunk of your life to forget to mention, Latimer."   
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Head cocked to one side, the older man squinted his eyes, as though some change   
in vision would explain this revelation. "Why? Why would you just leave out   
such a part of who and what you are?"  
  
Latimer was silent and when he raised his face toward his commander, his eyes   
searched the air for an answer. "I guess," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper,   
"I wanted to forget. I thought I could put that part of my life behind me, that   
I could start all over here." His eyes were focused somewhere over Sinclair's   
shoulder, watching, Jeff realized, some long ago trauma.   
  
There was a second chair on Latimer's side of the desk, and Sinclair dropped his   
body into it. "What changed your mind?" he asked, leaning toward the young man.   
  
Latimer shrugged and shook his head. "I think maybe I understand a little   
better now what the Rangers are about. When I came to Minbar, I came to   
receive. I realize now that being a Ranger isn't passive but active. It's   
about what I can give, what I can do."  
  
Sinclair nodded but said nothing. For several minutes, they sat together in   
silence. A whispered question broke the silence. "What did you come to   
receive?"  
  
The reply was barely breathed. "Forgiveness."  
  
A moment later, Ambassador Jeffrey Sinclair rose and returned to his desk.   
"That will be all, Latimer."  
  
The Ranger rose, acknowledged the man with a bow, and crossed to the door.   
  
"And Latimer?" The young man turned back to Sinclair. "Pack for Mars. I have   
an assignment for you."  
  
==========  
  
"Back so soon, Doctor Ack-a-rye?"   
  
It was the mispronunciation of his name that really got his attention. While he   
was amused to discover that the security agent checking his identicard was the   
same man who had checked him through customs on his last trip, he was a bit   
irritated to have to make chitchat. He wanted to check into a hotel, find a   
tolerable bed and some decent food, and try to call Aiyanna again.   
  
Their conversation before he left earth had been brief, and while nominally they   
had made up, KJ knew things still weren't right between them. It didn't help   
that he didn't want to tell her why he had come back to Mars.   
  
The hotel room was small, but adequate to his needs: a bed, dresser, and desk, a   
small bathroom, and a vid unit. He threw his bag on the bed and went to the vid   
unit to order the call. At this hour, there might be a queue for channels, and   
the smaller hotels would not get priority. He unpacked while he waited for the   
call to go through, but the message soon came back that his party did not   
respond. He wondered if Aiyanna had already left for Johannesburg.   
  
His computer and the various documents he had brought along nearly covered the   
little desk. He set his work out in as orderly a fashion as he could, then   
double checked to be certain he had the one piece of paper he needed for   
tonight. He grabbed a jacket and headed out again.   
  
It was not hard to find the bar whose name was scribbled on that paper. It was   
in one of the smaller domes, outside the sanitized tourist areas, but there was   
a tube stop nearby, and he only had to change lines once to get to it. As he   
walked the few blocks from the station to the address he had been given, he   
tried to look as though he fit into the neighborhood, although he wasn't sure   
who would fit into this neighborhood or why. It was made up of large, boxy   
buildings, all dark, most in disrepair. They might be warehouses or factories,   
he thought, but there were no signs. No markings on the buildings, no hints of   
what they contained, no signs of life.   
  
Round the next corner, Kijana stopped short. The street was filled with people   
moving noisily from one to another of the gin joints that lined the road. There   
were, he noted as he extricated himself from the grasp of a solicitor, other   
amusements here as well. His target was a small bar about halfway down the far   
side. He pushed his way through the crowd to the bar, asked for a beer, and   
took stock of the crowd. The bartender reappeared with a dark bottle for which   
he exchanged a credit chit. Akirai took a long draught from the bottle before   
easing between bodies to the tables in the rear.   
  
A muscular young man pushed in front of him, silently blocking his path. KJ   
spoke only a name. For a moment, there was no reaction, then a shrill whistle   
rang out, and the man stepped aside. Akirai was beckoned to a table where two   
men in identical black leather spent the next hour interrogating him.   
Ultimately, he was dismissed with no resolution.   
  
He stopped to eat at a little shop near the hotel before returning to his room.   
There were two messages waiting for him. The first, from Aiyanna, gave him the   
name and access number of her hotel in Johannesburg. The other, audio only,   
gave only a time and place. Deciding it was too late to call Johannesburg,   
Akirai undressed and fell into bed. Tomorrow he would hear the Free Mars side   
of the story.   
  
==========  
  
He made certain to call Aiyanna's hotel before he went out the next morning.   
Informed she had already gone out, he left a message. The allowed transit time   
was ample, placing him at his destination early enough to wander through a   
nearby park. At the appointed hour, he made his way through the shopping   
arcade, slipped out a maintenance access, and took the stairs down to the   
tunnels that served the loading docks.   
  
The first blow fell hard across his back, a crushing thud that bent him over and   
drove the air from his lungs. Though he tried to turn to face his attacker,   
another truncheon, this time to his midsection, laid him on the ground. Beyond   
that, he found it hard to separate the beating into separate blows. While   
consciousness remained, he could only try to fend off his masked assailant.   
  
==========  
  
Sound was first to penetrate the darkness. Only later was Akirai able to open   
one swollen eye and bring the face above him into some sort of focus.   
  
"Can you hear me?" repeated the pale blond man whose hands steadied Kijana's   
head. He tried to nod. "OK, just lie still now until we see how badly you're   
hurt." His hands moved swiftly over Akirai's head and neck, down his arms and   
legs. "I don't think any major bones are broken," he said, "but I'll bet..."   
Akirai let go a yelp of pain as the man's hands skimmed over his ribcage. "Yep,   
looks like you've got a couple of broken ribs. I'm going to try to wrap them to   
give you a little support and then we'll see if we can get you up and get you to   
a hospital."  
  
The stranger ripped a long strip of fabric from the edge of the duster he wore.   
"I'm sorry," Akirai gasped. He wanted to apologize for the damage to the man's   
clothing, wanted to tell him he would replace the garment, but the first two   
words exhausted him.   
  
"Don't try to talk. It's going to take whatever energy you've got to get out of   
here." He tied off the makeshift bandage. "Let's try to get you up," he   
continued, lifting one of Akirai's arms and placing it round his shoulders.   
"This is probably going to hurt like hell, but we can't exactly call an   
ambulance down here."  
  
Only as his Samaritan lifted him to his feet did Kijana realize that he was no   
longer in the loading dock tunnels. The pain was blinding, but when it eased   
and his head cleared, he saw his surroundings more as sewer than tunnel. The   
man was right; no ambulance would come down here. No one would come down here.   
His unconscious body had been dumped, he realized, where no one would find him.   
  
And yet he had been found. "Who're you?" His voice was a wheeze, and every   
word drove a blade into his lungs.   
  
The man shifted his weight. "I'm not important. Do you know who you are? Do   
you remember what happened?" Akirai managed both questions with a single nod,   
though he wasn't certain that pain was any less than trying to talk. "Robbery?"   
the man asked. Kijana's free hand felt for his wallet. Finding it where it   
should be, he pulled it out for inspection. His credit chits, his room key,   
even his return ticket for the shuttle, were still there. "OK, then, let's try   
to get out of here."  
  
They traveled, Kijana estimated, less than a mile all told, but the trip   
consumed hours. Walking, even with assistance, exhausted him. Repeatedly they   
stopped to let him catch his breath, a futile task given the degree of pain that   
trying to fill his lungs caused. His rescuer navigated for them, choosing,   
wherever possible, level paths over slopes, slopes over stairs, and stairs over   
ladders. Only one climb was unavoidable, a simple steel access ladder. Six   
steps were all he would need to climb it, but it was wide enough only for one.   
Unassisted, he made the six most painful steps of his life.   
  
It was dark when they reached the street level but he could be no more specific   
about the time. "We need to get you to the nearest hospital," his rescuer said,   
but as he looked around them, Kijana realized neither of them knew where that   
was.   
  
"Hotel," he whispered, tossing his head toward the lights of the main dome. The   
reverberations of pain in his skull reminded him that was not a good idea. He   
had to remember not to do that again. Whoever had dumped him had left him   
closer to the hotel, close enough to walk, or, in his case, limp. At each   
corner, they rested, the stranger supporting him and urging him on.   
  
It was near dawn when the man eased Akirai down onto the bed in his hotel room.   
Sleep followed quickly. When he woke, there was light from the window. His   
torn and blood stained clothes lay over the back of the desk chair, his ribs   
were firmly wrapped, and several wounds wore bandages. Tentatively, Kijana   
turned his head to the left. There beside him, his rescuer slept, his slender   
body draped awkwardly over the chair.   
  
Vertebrae by vertebrae, Kijana lifted his body from the bed. Upright, he paused   
to allow the room to choose a position. Asleep in the chair, his savior had a   
boyish look, but Akirai guessed they were of about the same age. The blond   
might even be a bit older. His clothes were of a style Akirai could not place.   
The blouson top and loose, flowing duster seemed Minbari in their styling, but   
other details gave the look of a warrior's uniform. The edges of the duster   
were ragged from the makeshift bandaging. When the man woke, he would   
apologize.   
  
He eased himself slowly from the bed, careful not to wake his Good Samaritan.   
It would have worked too if the floor had not come crashing up at him half way   
between the bed and the bathroom.   
  
"We've got to stop meeting like this," the man joked, and Kijana noted that it   
hurt when he laughed. "Which way?" he asked when they were upright again.   
Akirai managed enough words to steer them to the bathroom, and by the time he   
was finished there and they had limped back, he was grateful for the bed.   
  
They talked about the hospital again, or more accurately, the man talked about   
KJ needing a hospital and KJ shook his head as negatively as the pain would   
allow. The blond assured him that pain was a concussion, but Akirai was   
unmoved.   
  
"Your name?" Kijana asked again.   
  
The beginning of another brush-off melted into a compassionate smile. "Terrance   
Latimer. Terry."  
  
Akirai smiled as well. "Kijana Akirai."  
  
"I know. I saw your identicard, Doctor."  
  
"KJ."  
  
"Rest, KJ. You've got a lot of healing to do."  
  
"I'm in your debt," he said, deciding the rest of the planned sentence wasn't   
really so important.   
  
"Just rest."  
  
Rest he did, and sleep, long labored slumbers filled with surreal nightmares.   
He slept, he thought, more than he was awake, and what wakeful time he had was   
filled by once unconscious tasks like meals and personal hygiene. When he was   
strong enough to sit up and talk normally, he sent a message to Aiyanna, audio   
only. Full of apologies and assurances, it did not mention the beating he had   
taken or the quest he had undertaken.   
  
Terrance did ask, eventually, and when Akirai confessed the story, scolded him,   
but only a little. KJ in turn asked his own questions, about the odd uniform   
and distinctive badge Terry wore. Reluctant at first, Terrance ultimately spoke   
about a group of watchers, human and Minbari, scattered throughout the known   
worlds, to listen, to observe, to prepare, and to protect.   
  
Kijana listened, fascinated. "Why did you choose this life?" he asked.   
  
"To atone," Latimer answered, "for past sins."  
  
==========  
  
"And I'm telling you that if you go in there with a backhoe, you are going to do   
significant damage to the structures down below and destroy any artifacts in the   
surface layers! Not to mention the fact that you may give your operator a nice   
little ride. Straight down. Several hundred feet straight down! So why don't   
you just go back out there, Mr. McKenna, and talk to your crew and do the job   
you were contracted to do, or I will find someone who will." The burly man left   
the tent in a huff, and Saada Akirai breathed a long sigh.   
  
"This is a side of you I haven't seen before, Doctor." Saada spun to the   
mellifluous voice. Morden stood framed in the tent flaps, a gleaming smile   
lighting his face.   
  
"Doctor Morden," she said, "I didn't hear you arrive."  
  
"I was eager to see how things were progressing, Doctor. I hope you don't   
mind."  
  
"No, of course not." She drew her jacket closer around her, and belted it   
tightly.   
  
"You've already done a good bit of digging, I see."   
  
"The hand work, yes. Now I'm trying to make McKenna understand that if he goes   
barreling in there he's just going to collapse the surface layers down onto the   
area of primary interest, and we'll have to dig it all out again."  
  
"It can be difficult to get what you want, Doctor, but you strike me as   
determined. Please, though, if there's any way I can help, just tell me."  
  
Saada felt a shiver trace her spine as she thanked him.   
  
"Have you turned up anything of interest in the upper layers, Doctor Akirai?"  
  
"Yes," she said excitedly, grateful for an external focus for the conversation.   
"Let me show you." Carefully, she lifted a drop cloth to reveal a table full of   
bits and pieces, an unsolved jigsaw of metal and stone. She described each one   
for him, classifying, analyzing, hypothesizing, all in her best clinical manner.   
  
"And the markings? You still think this is some yet undocumented language?"   
Her response was affirmative. "This is quite impressive, Doctor. I wonder if I   
might ask a favor of you. I will be meeting with several of my associates this   
week. I know they would be most interested to see these markings firsthand.   
Would you trust me to borrow a few pieces to show them?"  
  
Some unnamed fear prickled up the flesh on the crest of Saada's shoulders.   
"Doctor Morden, if this is some sort of ruse to bring IPX in on this project..."   
  
Morden sobered, and raised a hand to halt her. "Doctor, please, save that tone   
for McKenna and his crew. I have told you I no longer work for IPX. I have no   
contact with them and no allegiance to them nor they to me. I could be dead for   
all they care. Now if you don't want these pieces to leave the site, feel free   
to say that, and I will respect your wishes. But please don't question my   
veracity."  
  
Hers was an outwardly gracious but inwardly grudging agreement. Several   
specimens were carefully wrapped and prepared for transport, and Morden signed   
for receipt of them, all by the rules.   
  
==========  
  
Latimer had watched over Akirai for several days. Akirai tried to count it by   
the number of meals Terry had fed him, but so much of his memory was blurred   
with his dreams that he soon abandoned the effort. He continued his apologies   
and his offers to compensate Latimer for his time and torn clothing, but the man   
demurred.   
  
"I need to go out for a while today. Is there anything you'd like me to do for   
you while I'm out?" Terrance asked as he finished changing the dressings on   
KJ's wounds.  
  
At that moment, Akirai knew he had reached a new stage in his recovery. Latimer   
had not left him since he regained consciousness in the tunnel. "I'd like you   
to stop fussing over me and give your own life priority," he scolded. "I can't   
imagine how much I've disrupted it for you."  
  
Latimer just smiled. "I shouldn't be long. Don't try to do too much."  
  
The admonition was sincere but unnecessary. Kijana sat up at the desk for a   
time, sending Aiyanna and Saada mail to that carefully avoided any mention of   
his physical condition, and trying to organize some of his research. The effort   
quickly tired him, and he gladly eased himself back into the bed. The sound of   
Terry keying open the door roused him from another nightmare.  
  
As Latimer emptied the little sack of groceries and pharmaceuticals he had   
brought with him, Kijana inquired about his excursion. Though the questions   
were courteously vague, they went unanswered. Finally, Latimer brewed two mugs   
of tea, brought one to KJ, and sat down beside the bed.   
  
"I did come across some information you might find interesting," he offered.   
  
Akirai gulped down a mouthful of hot liquid. "Me? What did you hear?"  
  
"Did you make your contact Tuesday night in a bar called Zero G?" KJ nodded.   
"Well, it looks like you were set up, my friend."  
  
"No! You think?" The mockery was accompanied by a wince as he painfully   
shifted position.   
  
"I do think." Terry smiled and sipped his tea. "And I think it wasn't by Free   
Mars." That got Akirai's attention. "There are a lot of unsavory people in   
Free Mars," Latimer admitted, "but not all of them. I have sources I believe I   
can trust. They tell me Zero G was raided Tuesday night and a lot of Free Mars   
people were rounded up."  
  
He nodded in response to the look of puzzlement on Kijana's face. "As a result,   
the runner who was supposed to meet you never got there."  
  
"Then who?"   
  
"That, my friend, is a wonderful question," Terry said as he rose to refill his   
cup. "Shall we discuss your enemies?"  
  
It was a brief conversation, but there was a sense of relief in confiding to   
Terry about the argument with Voudreau and the warning from Mitchell. Still,   
they were on earth and this was Mars.   
  
"Doesn't your research connect the two?"  
  
"The planets, yes, but not the people. There's nothing to connect Mitchell or   
Voudreau to Free Mars."  
  
Latimer's eyes narrowed as he considered that comment, and his mouth shaped a   
question. Then he shook his head and walked away from the bed.   
  
"Terry? What is it?"  
  
"I don't know your Mitchell," he said, "but Senator Voudreau recently expressed   
some concerns about a businessman by the name of Taro Isogi." He turned to KJ.   
"Mean anything to you?"   
  
"Future Corp?"   
  
Latimer nodded. "Isogi was proposing a project that would have allowed Future   
Corp to expand to Mars. Mars Conglomerate was, naturally, opposed. The Senate,   
primarily Senator Voudreau, was reluctant."  
  
"Yeah, but what's that got to do with Free Mars?"  
  
"Shortly after a meeting which came close to sealing the deal, Isogi was   
attacked by a man who shouted 'Free Mars' as he charged."   
  
"What stake does Free Mars have in the deal?"  
  
"None, or, if any, the project would have been to their advantage. We have the   
word of someone close to Free Mars and to the negotiations that the murderer   
wasn't one of theirs."  
  
"So someone wanted it to look like Free Mars attacked Isogi? Have you talked   
with him about his enemies?"  
  
"KJ, Taro Isogi is dead."  
  
==========  
  
He hadn't expected her to meet him. He had sent a message to Aiyanna before he   
left Mars, giving her all the details of his trip and assuring her that he would   
soon be with her in Johannesburg, but he hadn't anticipated her meeting his   
flight. The trip had left him a bit more willing to believe Terry's warnings   
that he wasn't up to traveling yet, and all he wanted now was rest.  
  
Her smile was a beacon guiding him through the maze of Customs and baggage   
claim. When he finally emerged, she greeted him with a hug that proved how   
fragile his ribcage still was. Aiyanna frowned with concern as she examined his   
obvious cuts and bruises. He tried not to let her know there were others.   
  
"KJ, what's happened?"  
  
"It's nothing, darling. I had a little accident, that's all. I didn't say   
anything because I didn't want you to worry needlessly."   
  
She ran a finger over the bandage on his brow. "This doesn't look like a little   
accident. Are you limping?"   
  
"I'm just stiff from the trip, Yani. Nothing a hot shower and a good night's   
sleep won't cure," he lied.   
  
"Well, that I can arrange." She led him to a shuttle bus that deposited them in   
the heart of the city, then guided him from thoroughfare to side street to   
little lane and finally into the lift of a small apartment house. The flat   
Aiyanna had rented for them was ample, with an extra room to serve as an office.   
Its architecture had a somewhat antique charm that included a brick fireplace   
and elegant French doors that gave onto a miniscule terrace. The streaming   
light through that glassy wall enhanced the illusion of space, as did the   
current lack of furniture.   
  
"Yani, this is beautiful!"  
  
"Isn't it? I looked at a lot of flats but they were all either dark and tiny or   
way beyond our budget. And then the Commissioner heard we were looking for a   
flat and he made a few calls. And here we are!"  
  
Kijana set his bag down by the fireplace. "Speaking of the Commissioner,   
shouldn't you be at work?"  
  
"We agreed that I should spend today with you. My desk is clear, and there's   
nothing urgent coming up. Besides, it's been so long since we've been   
together." She smiled and wrapped her arms around him again. "I'll have to be   
in the office tomorrow, but today's for us."  
  
He smiled through the pain and wondered how he could pull this off without her   
discovering the extent of his injuries. "Let me get a shower and some clean   
clothes," he suggested, kissing her gently, "and then I'm all yours."   
  
"Are you hungry? I can fix us some lunch while you clean up."  
  
"Sounds great!" He seized an idea. "Was that a park we passed? How about a   
picnic?"   
  
She grinned broadly. "I'll pack a basket."   
  
==========  
  
Under the warm flow of the shower, Akirai tried to take stock of his bruises.   
The rich browns of his skin camouflaged some of the minor bruises, but much of   
his midsection and back were still deep purple. He could not let Yani see that.   
  
He dried and dressed in the softest, most comfortable clothes in his bag.   
Tentatively he exercised the stiff muscles in his back and hip, practicing, as   
best he could in the little bath, walking without favoring the leg. When he   
emerged, Aiyanna was setting a folded blanket beside the picnic basket.   
  
The afternoon sunlight was vibrant, its brilliant gold sparkling on rusty   
foliage. A few oaks had shed their colors early, enough to give the couple   
crackly piles of leaves to play in. They twirled about like children, kicking   
up spouts of fiery flutters, laughing in ways almost forgotten. Under a willow   
tree, they spread their blanket, within sight of an ancient fig.   
  
The meal they shared was simple and the conversation common. They chewed on   
crusty rolls and rustic conundrums, savored mellow cheese and cherished   
memories. As the sun began to set, they wrapped themselves in the blanket of   
one another's bodies and warmed themselves with wine. He was tired and a little   
tipsy by the time Aiyanna led the way back to the flat.   
  
Once inside he dropped down onto the couch, the single piece of furniture in the   
room. Aiyanna bustled about in the kitchen, and from the sounds, he guessed she   
was setting things away. Her voice, as though from far away, offered to make   
tea. Answering seemed far too complicated, but the thought of the liquid's   
warmth suffusing his body spread a sweet relaxation over him.   
  
His dreamer's mind rode the jolt of pain back through time and space to the   
loading dock tunnel. Defensive instincts unbridled by his conscious mind lashed   
out at his attacker. A cry, part pain, part indignation, called him back to   
wakefulness just as Aiyanna tumbled back onto the floor.   
  
"Oh god, Yani, I'm sorry!" He rolled from the couch to gather her into his   
arms, but her body did not mold to his.   
  
She drew away from him carefully. "What's going on, KJ?"  
  
"Honey, I must have been having a nightmare. It was just an accident. I'm   
sorry. I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?"  
  
"You're getting to be quite accident prone, KJ." He shook his head, but could   
not clear his confusion. "You never did tell me about this accident you had on   
Mars," she said, reaching out to lift the edge of the bandage on his forehead.   
  
He took her hand. "That's not important, Yani."  
  
"KJ! You go back to Mars after I ask you not to. You drop out of communication   
for days, then send cryptic messages about why you're delayed. You come home a   
head wound and a limp, and when I try to touch you, you throw me halfway across   
the room. And this you want me to believe is caused by accidents and   
nightmares? Kijana, we can't build a marriage on lies."  
  
He drew as deep a breath as the bruises would allow, blew it slowly out, and   
took both her hands in his. They looked so fragile there, pale pink porcelain   
perfectly formed and embellished only with the ring that sealed their pledge.   
Staring at the dance of fire in their diamond, he searched for words gentle   
enough to tell her and faith deep enough to believe she could understand.   
  
"I went back to Mars because I wanted to understand the Free Mars position," he   
said, lifting his eyes to hers. "I had arranged a meeting with them." He saw   
her mouth curl in anger and he struggled to purge emotion from his voice. "I   
was attacked and beaten. That's what I didn't want you to know. I didn't want   
you to worry."  
  
"If you don't want me to worry, then drop this horrid project! KJ, what will it   
take for you to see that this is a very bad idea?"  
  
"Yani, if someone is willing to go to such lengths to stop me..."  
  
"If someone is willing to go this far to stop you, you could get killed!"  
  
He slumped back against the couch. He had no answer for that one.  
  
"KJ, please, promise me this Mars thing is over." He started to shake his head.   
"No! Do not tell me no. You can't tell me no. KJ, people are questioning your   
loyalty!"  
  
"What?" He straightened up again, drawing a protest from his back. "What are   
you saying?"   
  
"KJ, I'm working at the Ministry of Peace. People there are not at all happy   
that you insist on pursuing this thing."  
  
"Who exactly? What have they said to you?"  
  
"They keep asking about where you are and what you're doing and why you're so   
fired up about this research. KJ, the commissioner told me flat out yesterday   
that there are people in EarthGov who feel you should be classified as a   
terrorist because of your support for Free Mars."  
  
"What support? Yani, I haven't taken a single political position. Hell, I   
haven't even published my findings yet. This is all speculation and innuendo."  
  
"I don't care, KJ. It's dangerous, professionally and personally. Look at   
you!" She slipped across the floor to sit beside him. When she spoke again,   
her voice was soft. "You're here now. Stay with me. We'll get you healed up,   
furnish this place, and set up housekeeping. You can find a position here. I'm   
sure that if I tell the commissioner you've given up this Mars thing, he'll be   
willing to help you find a position at the university here."  
  
The last struck a nerve. "Are you reporting to Paoletti on me? Is that part of   
your job?"  
  
"KJ! Commissioner Paoletti has been very kind to me - to us! This apartment!   
I'd never have found this on my own! It wasn't even supposed to be available.   
The last tenant moved out in the middle of the lease, and Paoletti pointed me to   
it the very same day! He's taking an interest in us, KJ. He wants us to settle   
here and be happy. But this research of yours is creating very large problems.   
It has to stop."  
  
He drew his knees up toward his chest, encircling them with his arms. Letting   
his head drop forward, he closed his eyes and watched the mind movie of all that   
had happened and all that might happen. He formed several explanations for   
Aiyanna but he didn't give them.   
  
"Let's get some sleep, Yani," he said at last. "In the morning, I'll go back   
and start packing up my things." She smiled then, and kissed him, gently. 


	3. The Price of Shadow 3/4

The Price of Shadow  
Part 3  
  
  
  
==========  
  
He climbed the stairs slowly, unsure whether his fatigue was in the body or the   
soul. Transport from Johannesburg to Windhoek had been quick and simple,   
compared at least to the other travels he had made of late, but his own   
apartment seemed alien after so much absence. He left his bag and came back   
here where he knew he would feel at home.   
  
At the top of the wide stone staircase, he leaned against a column to rest. The   
marble was cool against his cheek, and from the entryway, a weary man, eyes dark   
with sadness, pondered him, his own reflection in the great brass doors. He   
pushed himself inside, pausing in the cavern of the lobby to find his vision   
amongst the shadows. He turned and walked without a path in mind, choosing only   
to move away from the paths of others, seeking quiet, solitude, and peace.   
  
Peace. Now there was a ministry dedicated to peace. In every regional office,   
staffs of people just like Yani were working to see that he was at peace.   
They'd best work harder. He turned again, away from a table of students,   
through the large glass doors that sheltered a reading room lit by small green-  
shaded lamps. In the cool and fragrant air of the stacks filled with ancient   
leather bound volumes, he stopped to draw down a text. Irony coaxed a laugh   
from him as the pages fell open. The austere surrounding of the law library   
amplified both sound and sense of inappropriateness, and he glanced about to be   
sure he was alone.   
  
Here he was again, disturbing the peace, even here in these hallowed halls. He   
smiled to himself at himself. Whose help had he enlisted in this current   
insurrection, he wondered? He examined the page more closely. The Supreme   
Court of the United States of America. Early twentieth century. A dissenting   
opinion. Of course, he would find the dissenter. Louis D. Brandeis. What   
trouble shall we cause today, Justice Brandeis?  
  
Slowly, he savored the text. "Experience should teach us to be most on our   
guard to protect liberty when the Government's purposes are beneficent." He   
wondered what Brandeis would think of the Ministry of Peace and of Commissioner   
Paoletti. "The greatest dangers to liberty lurk in insidious encroachment by   
men of zeal, well-meaning but without understanding." Unsure still if he would   
describe Paoletti so innocently, he nonetheless returned Justice Brandeis'   
opinion to its place in the stacks. He let his hands rest there upon the supple   
leather of the bindings and drew deep, fortifying breaths flavored with the dust   
of centuries of wisdom.   
  
The objective of the Ministry of Peace, Paoletti had said, was to help humans   
find peace with themselves, so it will be easier to attain peace with other   
planets. He straightened, adjusted his glasses, and made a mental note to thank   
Commissioner Paoletti. He understood clearly now. And there were a few things   
he needed to check before going back to Mars.   
  
==========  
  
"You're in my seat." He hadn't expected to find his sister here, and from her   
reaction, he guessed she hadn't expected him either.   
  
"I thought you were in Johannesburg," she said as she embraced him. "KJ, what's   
this?" She gently fingered the wound on his brow. He hadn't managed to hide   
the truth from Aiyanna; he didn't try to keep it from Saada.   
  
"Kijana, are you all right? My god, what do the police say?"  
  
He was sure she had many other questions as well, and he wanted to avoid all of   
them. "I'm the big brother, remember? I take care of you." He regarded the   
various maps strewn over the table. "What are you about here? I thought you   
had moved to the new dig site. Don't tell me you're moving again?"  
  
Her sign spoke more of anger and disgust than of fatigue or resignation. "We   
started digging, and we've been bringing significant samples out of the top   
layers. Now I'm told that my backers don't feel we should go forward. They   
claim there's a fault line undermining the site."  
  
"Is there?"  
  
"No!" Her response drew sharp hisses from nearby readers. "KJ, I've checked   
every geological survey I can find for the area," she whispered, "and there is   
no trace of any instability."  
  
"So they're looking for an excuse to pull your funding."  
  
"Yeah, but..." She wrinkled her nose, and for a moment, in his eyes, she was six   
years old again. It made him smile. "They had an out. The agreement was that   
they'd fund the first stage and then decide if they felt it worth the full   
investment."  
  
"And if they felt it wasn't?"  
  
"Then all pieces found revert to me, and I'm free to negotiate funding   
elsewhere."  
  
Kijana sat back in his chair and considered for a moment. "What did you bring   
up, Sis?" She pulled a sheaf of papers from the briefcase on the chair beside   
her and handed it to him. He scanned the catalog. "That's it?"   
  
"That's it? I think that's pretty impressive."  
  
"Well, yes, from an archeological point of view. Just about everything here   
suggests the need for further investigation. I guess I meant... I don't know.   
I was looking for something... controversial. Something dangerous." She showed   
him her empty palms.   
  
Kijana considered the list again before handing it back to Saada. He shifted   
forward in his chair and leaned close to her. "Saa, they don't want anyone to   
dig there. They don't want to fund your dig and they don't want you to find   
other funding. They want this dig stopped." He watched for her reaction.   
"Why?"   
  
Fear crackled like lightening in the darkness of her eyes. She forced a breath.   
"KJ, is it possible you're getting just a little paranoid?"  
  
He settled back in his chair with a laugh. "Oh yeah, entirely possible. So you   
tell me, what do you make of it?"  
  
Saada turned back to the maps scattered in front of her. Her head shook gently   
side to side. "Exactly the same thing you do," she whispered. "And it scares   
the hell out of me."  
  
His hand surrounded hers, but it was she who squeezed. They exchanged a sad   
smile. "So what are you going to find down there, Saa? What is it they want to   
keep buried?"   
  
"That's what mystifies me, KJ. This is, as best we can tell, a wholly new   
civilization, a culture we've never seen before. How can you be afraid of   
something you've never even seen?"  
  
"Oh, that's easy," he laughed. "But why are you assuming it's fear? And are we   
sure it's never been seen before?" He looked at the documents strewn before   
her. "Who are these backers?"  
  
"I don't know exactly. That's the other thing that has me a little spooked. I   
made the deal through Doctor Morden..."  
  
"The guy Hutcheson was introducing around?"  
  
"Yes. He refers to them as his associates, private investors. I've never   
gotten much more than that out of him."  
  
"I thought he was with IPX?"  
  
"Yeah." Her eyes darted about the room. "You're not the only one."  
  
He glared at her. "Meaning?"  
  
She rattled her head as if to clear away a nightmare. "I went to see Professor   
Hutcheson this morning. I thought he might know something more about Morden's   
associates, since he's so high on Morden." She shifted nervously in her chair   
and dropped her voice even a bit softer. "Kijana, he was going on and on about   
Morden and how wonderful he is, but he was also certain that Morden was working   
for IPX. Assigned to a science vessel called the Icarus, according to   
Hutcheson. I told him that Morden said he was no longer with IPX but he   
wouldn't have any of it. He actually got rather nasty with me."   
  
They sat together for a few moments and though no words were spoken, the glances   
practiced over twenty years of growing up together communicated in the silence.   
Finally, Kijana turned to the computer. "So what have you found out about the   
Icarus?"  
  
==========  
  
Michael Garibaldi slowed his step and paused to realize that his shift was truly   
and finally over. There had been no end to the annoyances today, most of them   
ultimately petty, but all of them seemingly urgent. He had been in every sector   
of the Station at some point today, dealing with the thefts, the fights, the   
break-ins, the pickpockets and con artists, and the endless stream of would-be   
smugglers who presented themselves in Customs. Every damn sector, and tired as   
he was, it felt as though he had walked every damn hallway. He was weary now,   
and easily irritated, which was why at this moment, in this sector, in this   
hallway, not fifty feet from the door to his quarters, it was pissing him off   
big-time that some wise ass was lurking in the shadows trying to follow him.   
  
At the entrance to his quarters, Garibaldi reached a hand to the security panel   
as though to key the access code, but executed a quick about-face. "Show   
yourself, or every security claxon on this station will be ringing in ten   
seconds."  
  
A pale, slender figure stepped forward and silently bowed. As Garibaldi's hand   
moved over the security console, his head, already cocked to one side, pulsed   
forward, a wary acknowledgement of the man's identity. He ushered the man   
through the opening door, followed, and called for lights.   
  
The stranger faced Garibaldi again and again bowed. "Thank you for seeing me,   
Mr. Garibaldi."   
  
Michael gestured toward the man on the man's right shoulder. "You're one of   
Sinclair's people?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Garibaldi. I'm a Ranger. Terence Latimer."  
  
"So, you got information for me, Latimer?"  
  
A bit of color suffused the man's angular face. "I'm afraid this visit is a bit   
different, Mr. Garibaldi. I need to ask for your help."  
  
Suspicion prickled on Michael Garibaldi's neck but he scrubbed it away with an   
open palm. These were Jeff's people. He had made the decision to trust them.   
"What exactly do you need?"  
  
"Your chief medical officer here on the station is a Doctor Stephen Franklin, I   
believe." Garibaldi nodded. "Is he the same Doctor Franklin who destroyed his   
notes on alien species rather than turn them over to EarthGov during the Earth-  
Minbari war?"  
  
"Yeah. That's Stephen. So what's the deal?"  
  
"It's important that I talk with Doctor Franklin. I believe he may have   
information that is crucial to my mission."  
  
"Hell, you don't need me for that. Just call Medlab and make an appointment."  
  
"Please, Mr. Garibaldi. This conversation must take place in complete   
confidence, and it must happen now. Lives are at stake."  
  
==========  
  
"Well, hello there, stranger!" Aiyanna Trudeau smiled broadly as Saada's face   
appeared on the message screen.   
  
"Hi! How's the new job?"   
  
Trudeau glanced around to be certain there were no coworkers within earshot to   
disturb or to eavesdrop before the two old friends giggled their way through all   
the news and gossip.   
  
"Yani, I actually called to ask a favor of you," Saada explained when they had   
run out of subjects. "Would you do a little research for me?"  
  
"Sure, if I can. What is it you need?"  
  
"You remember Doctor Morden?" Seeing Aiyanna's frown, she added, "from   
President Mitchell's reception?"  
  
"Oh! Yes! The one Hutcheson was so high on."  
  
"Right. I'm trying to find out a bit more about the man. Do you have access to   
the records of scientific exploration ships?"  
  
"I think so," she said. "Hang on, let me see. Looks that way. What ship? Do   
you know?"   
  
"Great. Yeah. Would you find out what you can for me about a ship called the   
Icarus?"  
  
"Searching now. Why are you checking out Doctor Morden?" Mischief sparkled in   
her grin. "He didn't strike me as your type."  
  
Saada gasped as a shiver ran through her. "Not at all, dear. He's front man   
for some investors, that's all."  
  
"Ew. Hang on." For a moment, Aiyanna occupied herself with other windows on   
the data screen. "Ew," she repeated. "So what do you want to know about the   
Icarus?"  
  
Saada stopped, mouth open. "I don't know exactly," she said finally.   
"Anything, I guess."  
  
"Well, for starters, it no longer exists," Aiyanna volunteered.   
  
"What?"  
  
"It was exploring out on the rim. The ship was lost with all hands."  
  
"That's not possible," Saada muttered.   
  
Aiyanna looked quizzical. "It's sad, I know, Saa, but these things happen."  
  
"No," the woman insisted. "Yani, are you sure you have the right ship? Did you   
spell it correctly?"  
  
The young woman read back her data entry, then read aloud the information that   
had been retrieved. "I'm sorry, Saa. The Icarus was lost. Why did you care   
about that ship anyway?"  
  
"Yani, can you get the crew manifest?"  
  
"Yes, I think so. Hold on."  
  
"Check the crew listing, Yani. Who is... who was the archeologist on the   
Icarus?"  
  
"According to this, it was..." Aiyanna turned back to her friend, wide-eyed.   
  
Saada nodded. "Doctor Morden was the archeologist on board the Icarus."  
  
==========  
  
She wouldn't have thought to look for him here. It was only the prompting of a   
librarian that brought her to the science library. Mrs. Oldham had always been   
fond of the Akirais, and that morning she had, as usual, taken note of Kijana's   
reading. Chemistry, mostly, she had said, when she suggested Saada might look   
for him here.   
  
Here indeed he was, surrounded by a sea of books, hunched over the computer,   
frantically scribbling notes by hand. She cleared the papers from the chair   
beside him and sat down. "KJ?"  
  
"Second," he mumbled, his eyes never leaving the screen.   
  
She waited, as seconds became minutes. Gently, she placed a hand on his   
shoulder and immediately dodged the sweep of a forearm toward her face. "Oh   
god, Saa, I'm sorry!" Her brother reached out to steady her. "I'm so sorry. I   
guess this whole thing with the attack has left me jumpier than I realize."   
  
As she nodded her agreement, Saada tried to force a smile. "Well, I'm afraid   
what I have to tell you may only make it worse." She had his full attention   
now, and she summarized her conversation with Aiyanna. "KJ, if the Icarus went   
down with all hands..."  
  
Her brother nodded and sat back to reflect. "Either the gentleman presenting   
himself as Doctor Morden is an impostor...."  
  
"And a good enough one to fool Hutcheson," she pointed out.   
  
"... Or the losses were not total when the Icarus went down, and EarthGov   
records are in error."  
  
"Would you let the government list you as dead?" she asked.   
  
"I might, if there were an advantage in it."  
  
"So, in either scenario, we return to the same question: why?" She dropped back   
in her chair. "The guy always did give me the creeps," she muttered.   
  
"The why is interesting, but it's not, I think, what's important right now.   
Your last statement is more to the point. Do you want to do business with this   
man? Whether this is a ruse or a resurrection seems less relevant than the fact   
that this is not a man you want as your partner."  
  
A corner of her mouth curled, turning her tight-lipped smirk into a cantilevered   
question mark. "Sure. I could accept the fantasy they're handing me and shut   
the dig down. Then I can watch while someone else moves in there and takes   
credit for the find." Her elbows plopped down hard on the tabletop. "I'm not   
willing to do that, KJ."  
  
"I know you don't want to lose this one, Sis, but it might be better to let it   
go than to risk involving yourself with Morden and whoever it is he represents.   
There's something very wrong about the whole situation."  
  
"I never thought I hear that from you!" He peeked at her over the top of his   
glasses. "Kijana Akirai," she said emphatically, "you are the last person on   
the planet I'd ever expect to tell me to give up. It's certainly not the way   
you conduct your own affairs."   
  
Kijana followed his sister's harsh glance to the documents strewn around him.   
"I know." He cast about for something to occupy his sight. "I don't know why,"   
he said finally meeting her eyes. "You're going to ask me why I can't let this   
go, and I don't have a good explanation. Maybe it's the fact that so many   
people want me to. Maybe it's all the things that don't make sense. But I have   
to finish this one."  
  
"Even if it finishes your career?" He didn't answer that one.   
  
"Saa, for Earth to colonize Mars was basically a losing proposition. It's a   
hostile environment. It's not particularly self-sufficient. It was difficult   
and expensive to create the colony, and it's difficult and extremely expensive   
to maintain it and supply it and govern it and defend it...."  
  
He shifted in his chair to face her. "The only pay off, and it's not a great   
one, is the mining industry. We profit on what we pull out of the Martian rock.   
But even there, things aren't right. There could be more profit, but the   
opportunity is ignored, with no good explanation. And when you try to follow   
the path of the profit, things disappear."  
  
"Disappear?" she asked, as a shiver made her gasp. "Who disappeared?"  
  
"Not who. What. The Martian mines bring out a variety of ores, including   
osbornite. The conglomerate purchases all of them, including the osbornite.   
And then it disappears. It isn't resold, it isn't processed, it isn't   
warehoused, it isn't given out as souvenirs. It simply drops off the books, out   
of the record keeping. Not there."  
  
"What's so special about osbornite?" She tried to remember her geology.   
  
Kijana turned back to his books. "As best I can tell, its one distinguishing   
feature is that it exists only on Mars."  
  
==========  
  
"I'm concerned to find you still here, Doctor." The voice was ice on her spine.   
Its owner always seemed to appear, unexpected, unannounced, unheralded, a   
specter materializing from the shadows. Yet this time, she had expected him.   
Saada had come back here to the dig site knowing Morden would appear, as though   
her presence could summon him. That chilled her even more.   
  
"I am still here, Doctor Morden, and I'm glad to see you." She turned to face   
him as she spoke and pulled down a long draught of hot, dry air to steel   
herself. "I wanted to talk with you about the future of this project."  
  
"It would not appear the project has a future, Doctor. As I said, I'm concerned   
that you haven't cleared the site. The instability in this area...."  
  
"Any instability in the area is my problem to worry about, Doctor Morden. I've   
been giving the matter serious consideration, and I believe it would be best for   
all concerned if I sought funding elsewhere."  
  
"Doctor Akirai, if you go forward with this, you'll be putting yourself and your   
crew in danger."  
  
"Perhaps. And I understand that your associates would not want to take such   
risks. We should conclude our business then. Your associates will be free to   
pursue other interests with no obligation to me and no responsibility for any   
further excavations, and I will be free to pursue or not to pursue this site, as   
I choose." She tipped her head up to stare him full in the face. "Is there any   
problem with that, Doctor?"  
  
Morden's eyes stared back at her, dark tunnels narrowing as she tried to see   
within, strangling the light. He smiled then, white teeth in counterpoint to   
the darkness of the man. "As you wish, Doctor. I will notify my associates."  
  
"And may I ask, Doctor Morden, that you return the artifacts which you took to   
show your colleagues? It was our agreement that any materials would revert to   
me."  
  
"Of course, Doctor. I'll see that those are returned to you promptly." He drew   
an organizer from his inside pocket and made a note. "I do hope you will   
reconsider, Doctor. I understand your disappointment at the prospect of   
abandoning this dig, but I would be remiss if I did not remind you of the   
serious danger involved in pursuing it. My associates have made it very clear   
to me that continued digging at this site could be life-threatening."  
  
Saada wondered how a human being could deliver a statement like that with such a   
broad smile. "Thank you, Doctor, and please thank your associates for their   
cooperation and their concern." She broke eye contact finally. "You'd best be   
on your way, Doctor, if you hope to clear the desert before dark."  
  
"If that's what you want, Doctor Akirai...."  
  
==========  
  
Aiyanna would livid when she found out he was here. He had sent a time-delayed   
message, worded as carefully as he could manage, scheduled to arrive after his   
flight left for Mars. He knew it only postponed the argument, but he couldn't   
risk having her dissuade him.   
  
Kijana Akirai had prepared a bit more carefully for this trip to the Zero G.   
This time he dressed for ease of movement and speed of flight, and didn't   
complain if the look was a little more street-wise and a bit rough. He taped up   
old injuries before he dressed, just in case his attackers took another shot.   
And this time, he trusted no one. He left the hotel presuming he was being   
followed, entered the club expecting confrontation, made each contact assuming   
he was among enemies.   
  
He wasn't in the bar long before he was summoned to the back table. Membership   
in that exclusive little fraternity had not changed, although one of the men   
sported a fresh scar over his left eye.   
  
"Given your idea of a warm Martian welcome, I'm not sure I want to join you,"   
Kijana remarked with a glance toward the offered chair. "At least, not 'til I   
heal." He waited for reaction, putting Latimer's set-up theory to the test.   
The scarred man began to rise, but his counterpart motioned him down. Rising   
himself, he again signaled his partner to relax, and came round to stand beside   
Akirai. A large man, he moved menacingly close, but spoke softly at Akirai's   
shoulder.   
  
"Comments like that are liable to upset people, especially people who recently   
got a bit roughed up themselves. We're not your enemies, and I think you know   
that. So why don't you just sit down?"  
  
Kijana obeyed and waited for the man to sit before he spoke again. "The last   
time I came in here I was looking for information. This time I'm looking for an   
explanation. So far, I haven't gotten either one."  
  
"You know what went down."  
  
"I know what one man said he heard went down. I don't know anything about his   
sources, and I don't know a hell of a lot about him. If you've got some good   
reasons why I should believe that story, I'd like to hear them. But I have to   
tell you, if I were trying to sell the story that the cops had raided my crib   
and rousted my people, I wouldn't be setting up housekeeping in the same spot."  
  
"It wasn't cops." This from the scarred figure, the smaller of the two men.   
Kijana looked his way, one eyebrow raised. He continued. "We know the cops,   
know who's by the book and who's on the book. These guys were new. Bureaucrat   
types. Almost looked like PsiCops, but without the uniform."  
  
"Interesting," Akirai agreed, "but not especially relevant. They found you   
here. Why come back?"  
  
"Why give away another location?" The brawny man across the table studied   
Akirai as he spoke the words, and Kijana recognized they were question, answer,   
and challenge. He met the stare with one of his own, then gave a calculated nod   
and a hint of a smile.   
  
For the next few hours, the three men talked quietly, ordering rounds of beers,   
and now and then putting up a roar of wholly unwarranted laughter for the   
semblance of a bar room group. The view of the Free Mars movement on EarthGov's   
resistance to Martian independence, the information Akirai had once before come   
here to find, was unfolded for him. While it helped to fill in the picture, it   
was no longer what weighed on his mind. When conversation dwindled, he took his   
leave, noting the slightly built man with the Asian features and the ramrod   
posture who followed at a distance.   
  
Prudence prescribed a well-lit and public route back to his hotel, but prudence   
would not have brought him back to this run down dome a second time. On the   
dingy and deserted platform of the shadowy tube station, his escort made a move.   
Appearance suggested Kijana had the advantage in both size and agility, but that   
confidence was deflated as quickly as his lungs when his assailant landed the   
first blow to his midsection. His attempts at defense were feeble, serving only   
to emphasize the fact that the man was extensively trained in the martial arts.   
He was searching for an escape and the breath to run for it when he saw the pike   
land.  
  
Akirai's attacker reeled as the blow struck him from behind. The momentary   
distraction was enough to let Kijana scramble to his feet and put some distance   
between them. He scurried to the far end of the platform, stopping only when he   
realized that the man had not followed. Slumped against a post, he watched the   
new, brief combat. The staff sang through the air, answered by the opponent's   
woofs of pain. The man dropped, sweeping his body round to knock the legs from   
under the other, who rolled backward and on to his feet. Kijana felt a rush of   
air and heard the growing rumble signaling the approach of the tube car. If   
others arrived on the platform, strangers who knew nothing of the origins of   
this bout, they might intervene in ways dangerous to themselves, to Akirai, and   
to the man who had come to his rescue.   
  
Pushing off the pillar, Kijana staggered toward the two men. The small, dark   
man had found his feet again, and when he raised his arms in defense, a blade   
glinted in his hand. Akirai froze, and in that instant realized there was no   
safety to be found. Nothing on the platform would afford him protection if that   
blade sailed for him. The man's eyes darted from his quarry to his adversary   
and back. The tube car screeched as it braked for the station, a painful   
metallic scream. Its echo was accompanied by a ferocious percussion, an   
aggressive, arrhythmic clatter of pike breaking blade and bone. The dark man   
dropped again, this time to stay down, his grasp on consciousness too tenuous to   
manage a scream. In the sudden quiet of the station, a gasp reverberated, the   
pneumatic sigh of the opening doors mingling with the whoosh of the pike   
magically collapsing and disappearing into the folds of its owner's duster.   
  
A strong hand grabbed Akirai by the sleeve and propelled him toward the empty   
tube car. "Let's go," Terry Latimer admonished, following him into the cabin   
just as the doors closed. The two men dropped into seats as the car lurched   
into motion.   
  
"Do I need to tell you that coming down here was stupid?" Latimer asked when   
the sounds of their breathing had quieted.   
  
Akirai shook his head. "Have you taken permanent assignment as my guardian   
angel?"   
  
Latimer smiled. "Far from it. I didn't even know you were on Mars until I saw   
you in Zero G tonight. But I figured you had a tail. You do realize someone   
else will take his place fairly quickly?" Akirai's nod did nothing to appease   
the man. "What the hell did you come back here for? The people you're playing   
with do not fool around."  
  
"Who am I playing with Terry? We never did figure that out. Or did we?"  
  
As the car made another stop, Latimer looked left and right. "It looks like a   
whole cast of characters," he said when they were again in motion and alone.   
"Mars Conglomerate paid for the last attack, but this one, and the one on Zero   
G, track back to EarthGov. They've put together a new crew, calling themselves   
the Ministry of Peace. Expect to see ads soon for what they're calling Night   
Watch. They're going to offer to pay people to report their friends and   
neighbors."  
  
The sick rush that swept Akirai had nothing to do with the uneven motion of the   
tube car. His heart called to Aiyanna. "What do they want with me?"   
  
"Maybe it's time you told me that," Latimer said. "A guardian angel has the   
right to know these things."  
  
Kijana rested elbows on knees and cradled his head in his hands. He felt the   
motion of the cabin slow and stop as it reached the next station, but he did not   
look up. He entrusted their safety to his guardian angel. Finally, without   
raising his head, he asked, "you've got medical training, don't you, Terry?" He   
looked up to see why the answer didn't come right back.   
  
Latimer looked uncomfortable, but he nodded. "Yeah. But this is our stop.   
Let's see if we can get you back to the hotel before we talk about this."  
  
==========  
  
"Anything?" Kijana asked, still staring out the tiny portal that served as the   
window of the hotel room. He was too high above the street to distinguish the   
features of the people below, but his imagination studied each one, searching   
for assassins.   
  
Latimer hopped down from the top of the desk, and held out a hand. "Someone's   
been busy." Three tiny metallic objects lay on his palm, and he fingered them   
as he spoke. "These two are audio only. One was near the com unit and one,   
believe it or not, in the bathroom. This one," he went on, lifting the slightly   
larger one, "is audio and video, and was aimed at the desk. The boys are   
reading over your shoulder, KJ."  
  
"So now they know you found them."  
  
"Not necessarily. Electronic eavesdropping is a common business strategy, and   
very few practitioners of such espionage go in afterwards to clean up. These   
could just be leftover from some earlier commercial snooping." He dropped the   
devices in the trash and sat down. "You do know you're not going to see   
anything out that window, especially if they've got a sniper looking for a   
target."   
  
Kijana jumped back from the window and smoothed the drapes into place, drawing a   
sympathetic smile from Latimer. "Relax, KJ."   
  
Akirai dropped down on the edge of the bed and returned his head to his hands,   
resuming the position he had held for most of the tube ride. Latimer leaned   
toward him and spoke softly. "OK, KJ, let's have it. Yes, I have medical   
training. How does that help?"  
  
Slender brown fingers slipped back over wiry black curls as Kijana drew a   
calming breath. "You know I was looking at the economic issues involved in the   
debate over independence, and specifically at the mining industry?"  
  
"Yes, and you said you had found some irregularities in the whole mining   
operation, and in how Mars Conglomerate was conducting business."  
  
Akirai nodded. "I was trying to understand why Mars Conglomerate would buy up   
the production of the mines without regard to natural market factors. My theory   
was that there was something in the transfer that was more valuable than they   
wanted to let on, so I started tracing the path of each of the separate elements   
that come out of the Martian mines."  
  
He rose, crossed behind Latimer, and tapped a few keys on the computer. "Each   
of the elements follows a fairly normal processing path, through refining to   
manufacturing and export, or in some cases, export first, then manufacturing   
later." Latimer turned to view the information on the little screen. "I was   
worried about the arsenic," KJ continued, "because Edgars Industries clearly   
didn't want to talk to me. They get all of it. But eventually I got to someone   
inside, and I think I believe his account of what they're using it for."  
  
Latimer nodded as he read. "That's pretty standard now. Arsenic hasn't   
seriously been used as a poison in centuries. It's too easy to trace."  
  
"What about osbornite?"  
  
Craning his neck, Latimer looked up at Kijana. "What about it?" He swiveled   
around as KJ returned to sit on the edge of the bed. "It's a mineral thus far   
found only on Mars. Related to what we would call heavy metals, but with some   
significant differences from the elements we'd generally classify that way.   
It's not in great supply, more a trace element. Why?"  
  
"What's it used for?"  
  
Latimer stared off toward the window, searching back through memories of college   
science courses for an answer. "Not a clue," he said, looking back at Akirai,   
"but I expect you've found out in your research."  
  
"No." He rocked his head side to side slowly. "I was able to trace everything   
else that comes out of the mines here, but the osbornite disappears. There's no   
record of it being refined, processed, sold, warehoused, nothing."  
  
"Maybe it's not."  
  
"Then why is the Conglomerate buying it? If it's going to be discarded, why   
isn't it discarded at the mines? And aren't there regulations about disposal of   
material like that?"  
  
Latimer nodded. "It has to be handled carefully to prevent contamination of the   
water supply."   
  
"So there would be records of its disposal?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No." Kijana rose and began to pace. "No records of disposal. No records of   
anything. Nothing. Where's the osbornite going, Terry? And why?"  
  
Latimer sat silent, his eyes on the floor beyond KJ's feet, but his gaze   
somewhere far distant.   
  
"Terry?"  
  
The pale figure spun in his chair until he again faced the computer. His   
fingers flew over the panel, and as KJ stepped up close behind, he could detect   
the readouts of files from a medical library. The text, dense in both   
appearance and meaning, spoke of heavy metal poisoning. A few more quick   
touches brought up a new search, this one Kijana recognized, having himself   
researched osbornite extensively. "I should have seen it." The angry words   
fell from Latimer as he snapped off the display.   
  
"Seen what, Terry?"  
  
The Ranger rose, taking the few steps the little room would allow. "You asked   
me once about the uniform I wear, about the Rangers." He turned to see Kijana   
nod. "You remember I said the Rangers include humans and Minbari?"   
  
"Yes, watchers, you said."  
  
"Rangers have been dying, KJ. Our people go into dangerous situations, and yes,   
sometimes we lose someone because of it. But this isn't Rangers being killed in   
the line of duty, not the usual battle casualties. This is illness, some sort   
of epidemic taking down our people. That's why I was sent here, to try to find   
out what it was and how to stop it."  
  
"Why here? Why Mars?"  
  
"The greatest concentration of deaths are here on Mars. Some on Earth, but   
fewer, far fewer. Now I think I know where your osbornite went. We were able   
to trace the pathology we're seeing to a poison, an agent that causes severe and   
rapid damage to the brain. The pathology didn't match any known poison. We   
knew we were looking at something engineered, but we didn't know what."  
  
"Osbornite?"  
  
He nodded. "Not in pure form, but it could be an osbornite derivative. It   
would have had to be engineered with some real sophistication to make it that   
selective."  
  
"Selective?" Akirai watched the Ranger as he waited for acknowledgment of his   
question. The gentle blue eyes moved like those of a dreamer. Somewhere in his   
mind, Terry Latimer was at work.   
  
Finally, the Ranger responded, a bit startled when the query penetrated. "It's   
a targeted poison, KJ," he said with a sigh. "Only Minbari Rangers are dying."  
  
"Could that be a coincidence? A pattern of exposure?"   
  
Latimer shook his head. "The toxin might produce some mild dizziness or   
disorientation in humans, maybe a bout of nausea until the body clears it, but   
no great harm. In the Minbari system, it's fast-acting and lethal."  
  
"And engineered to be that way?"  
  
"Yes." He studied the ceiling for a moment, then faced Akirai straight on.   
"Kijana, during the Earth-Minbari war anyone with xenobiology expertise was   
forced to turn over everything they knew to EarthGov. They were looking for a   
bioweapon that could be used against the Minbari."  
  
"And you think they've found it."  
  
"Most of the research came to nothing. We simply didn't know enough about the   
Minbari. But I've just come from talks with a doctor who refused to turn over   
his notes, destroyed them rather than give them up, and what he knows about the   
Minbari could have led to this kind of toxin."  
  
"But he destroyed his notes."  
  
"Yes, but if they got hold of the same information by other means..."  
  
Kijana nodded and walked to the computer. "My fiancée is something of an expert   
on the Minbari, and she's recently taken a job with this Ministry of Peace. I'm   
not proud of the fact that I was snooping, but I had a look at some files she   
left around when I was with her in Johannesburg." He called up a file on the   
computer. "I think this will support your theory."  
  
Latimer read only a few paragraphs before dropping heavily into the chair and   
casting his eyes upward. A long sigh escaped him, and when it was done, he   
squeezed his eyes closed and heaved to his feet. "So this is why you came   
back?" he asked Akirai. "You suspected this was where your missing osbornite   
was going?"  
  
Kijana nodded. "But how do we prove it? And what do we do when we can?"  
  
"Proof is my job," Latimer replied. "I thank you for your help, Kijana, but for   
your own safety, leave Mars, and leave this field of research. Go home and find   
something wonderfully innocent and politically correct to publish. This is not   
your fight."  
  
"Whose fight is it, Terry, if it's not mine? I've already got people trying to   
kill me. You expect me to just forget it ever happened?"  
  
They argued to a draw. Ultimately, Latimer left to carry the information about   
osbornite to those who might find an antitoxin. Kijana moved a number of files   
over to a data crystal, then wiped any record of them from the computer. He   
secreted the crystal inside an empty bottle in his toilet kit, and packed his   
bag for home. The com unit flickered to life on command, and when he had   
arranged his transport, he called for local news. Stretched out on the bed, he   
heard little of the broadcast.   
  
He bounced from the bed to his feet and crossed fleetly to the computer.   
Quickly, before the resolve left him, he sent another message to Aiyanna, an   
impassioned plea for her to leave her job at the Ministry, and meet him in   
Windhoek when he returned. She would want reasons, he knew, reasons he could   
not give her this way, reasons she would never accept as long as she needed   
them.   
  
==========  
  
A gentle chime demanded Aiyanna Trudeau's attention as she reviewed the flimsies   
spread across her desk. She set one sheet aside carefully as she turned to the   
computer message.   
  
"Good morning, Commissioner," she said brightly to the onscreen image. "How can   
I help you?"  
  
Unsmiling, Wesley Paoletti furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry I'm not able to have   
this conversation face to face, Aiyanna, but I'm needed in Geneva just now, and   
I didn't feel this could wait." Aiyanna let the smile slip from her face.   
"Aiyanna, is it true that Doctor Akirai has gone back to Mars?"  
  
The metallic taste that invaded Aiyanna's mouth threatened to sicken her. "I   
had a message yesterday, sir," she said, wishing she could leave it at that.   
"By the time it arrived, he was already on his way."  
  
"Aiyanna, can't you impress on him the foolishness of his actions? The two of   
you could have a wonderful life in Johannesburg, but this rabble rousing has got   
to stop. I've interceded where I could, Aiyanna, out of my fondness for you,   
but the authorities are quite upset with the nonsense the Doctor is propagating.   
Frankly, this whole situation has already made me look foolish, and I simply   
cannot do anything else to protect him.   
  
"Find him, Aiyanna, and talk some sense into him, before it's too late. I've   
got to get to a meeting now but I expect this whole matter closed by the time I   
get back to the office."  
  
Paoletti offered no goodbye, or at least Aiyanna did not hear one. Her mind was   
too full of deeper concerns to worry about pleasantries. The hand on her   
shoulder made her jump when a coworker gently pointed out the bleating of her   
message signal.   
  
She tried to calm herself as she brought up the call. The flickering of rich   
brown skin tones as the image formed brought Kijana's name to her lips, but   
Saada's face materialized. "Good morning, Yani. I'm sorry to bother you at   
work."  
  
Aiyanna steadied herself with slow breath. "That's OK, Saa. What's up?"  
  
"Yani, have you heard from KJ recently? He's not answering my calls."   
  
Quickly, softly, Aiyanna related the message she had received about KJ's return   
to Mars. Saada was no happier than she had been at the news.   
  
"That's it? Just that he's going to Mars? No word on why or when he'll be   
back?"   
  
Red curls fluttered as the young woman replied in the negative. "That's all,   
Saa, unless there's something in today's mail. Let me look." She opened   
another window on the screen and scanned the morning mail. Her eyes skimmed   
over the message list to pick out the only name that mattered. She opened   
Kijana's message hungrily, mumbling to Saada to wait. The content of the   
missive resurrected the pervasive nausea that Paoletti's call had caused.   
  
"Yani!" Saada snapped. "What is it?"  
  
Aiyanna realized her friend would have seen the panic in her face. "He says   
he's on his way home, Saa, but he doesn't give flight information."  
  
"Yani, what's wrong?"   
  
Trudeau shuddered, a reaction she did not hide from her friend. "So, why were   
you trying to reach him, Saa?" she asked, false cheer in her voice and real fire   
in her eyes. Both were calculated to let Saada know that the conversation could   
not be pursued in this setting, and the clues were not wasted.   
  
"I wanted to get his advice and reactions. I'm going to try again to convince   
Mitchell to fund the dig."   
  
"Then your other source of funding...."  
  
"Is dead," Saada said flatly. "I've asked for the return of my samples and let   
them know that we'll have no further connection."  
  
"What do you think your chances are with Mitchell?"  
  
Saada shook her head. "Not good, but I don't know where else to turn now. I'm   
going to ask Hutcheson to put in a good word for me, but I don't know."  
  
"If there's anything I can do...."  
  
"Thanks, Yani. I miss you, partner. I feel like this dig is as much yours as   
mine."  
  
"I wish I could be with you. You know I'll be thinking about you."  
  
"I know. Thanks. Look, I have to run. I've got an appointment with Hutcheson.   
If you hear from KJ, tell him to call me, OK?"  
  
"Will do. And good luck." Trudeau closed the message window, but continued to   
stare at the screen. She heard the words of Kijana's message in her head   
although she did not read them again. Slowly, she turned back to the flimsies   
on her desk, gathered them into a tidy stack, and set them in a folder. The one   
sheet she had set aside she lifted, reread, and slipped into her briefcase.   
  
Paoletti wanted the matter closed. Her job was to give him what he wanted.  
  
==========  
  
"Good God! What are you saying?" The force of Hutcheson's reaction made Saada   
Akirai recoil. "Do you realize what you've done?"  
  
"Professor, I've terminated my business arrangement with Doctor Morden and his   
associates," she repeated as calmly as her confusion would allow. "It was their   
wish to stop all activity at the site. I have chosen to release them from their   
commitments and continue on my own. In order to do that..."  
  
"No! You cannot do this. You must contact Doctor Morden immediately and tell   
him that you've changed your mind."  
  
Confusion gave way to irritation in Saada's brain. "I have not changed my mind,   
Professor, and I have no idea of how to reach Doctor Morden if I did. I have a   
meeting with President Mitchell in a few hours, and I'd like to have your   
support when I ask him to fund the project."  
  
"This project belongs to Doctor Morden and his associates. You cannot involve   
the university in this. It will..."  
  
"This project belongs to me, Professor," she interrupted, "and I intend to see   
it through." She took a few steps and a few breaths to calm herself.   
"Professor, I know you recognize the potential of this find. Can I count on   
your support?"  
  
"I'll have none of this!" His voice was strident again. "I've told you what   
you must do. If you insist on courting disaster, I'll have no part of it. Get   
out! Get out of my house! Go now! And don't come back!"  
  
==========  
  
She pounded the keypad with a fury that only muddled the access code. Slamming   
her briefcase to the floor with an expletive, Saada tried a second time to gain   
entry to her apartment. When the second attempt got likewise jumbled, she   
summoned every bit of rationality left to her and kicked the door.   
  
It opened. In the wedge of space created by the movement, Aiyanna Trudeau   
appeared. "Problem?" she asked, red curls bouncing around her face as looked   
from Saada's scowl to the spilt case at her feet and back again. A small smile   
managed to light Saada's eyes before her fear and frustration demanded a more   
serious demeanor.   
  
Aiyanna swung wide the door, and the two women stooped to gather up the   
briefcase and its scattered contents. "What are you doing here?" Saada asked.   
"Shouldn't you be in Johannesburg?"  
  
"I was able to get some time away, and Kijana asked me to meet him here when he   
got back from Mars. Of course, he didn't tell me when that would be. I was   
hoping maybe he let you know."  
  
Saada shook her head as she poured the baggage from her arms onto the desk.   
Leaving it haphazardly strewn about, she turned back to her friend. "I haven't   
heard a word from him." She sighed heavily, and a shimmer of a tear colored her   
voice when she spoke. "Oh, Yani! I think I need a drink."  
  
Aiyanna rose from the corner of the sofa where she had perched. "Saa, what's   
wrong?" She approached the woman with arms wide and concern obvious.   
  
Saada accepted the hug, and for a moment surrendered to a weepy urge. Then she   
straightened, wiped her cheeks, and strode into the kitchen. "Can I get you   
anything?"  
  
"Yes. An explanation. Saa, I don't remember the last time I saw you like this.   
What's happened?"  
  
As her friend took down glasses from the cabinet, Aiyanna could see that the   
wheat colored linen suit, which stood in contrast to the warm brown of Saada's   
skin, was patchworked with polygons of sweat. She took the tumblers from   
Saada's hands and issued orders. "Sit down and tell me what happened. I'll fix   
you something."  
  
Saada did as instructed. "I had an appointment with Mitchell today," she   
explained.   
  
"I take it this meeting did not go well?"  
  
"Horrible. He was completely dismissive. I tried to talk about the potential   
of the dig. He said the university can't fund fantasy. I tried to talk about   
the importance of the finds. He brushed me off. Every archeologist thinks his   
or her latest find is the most important, according to President Mitchell."  
  
Aiyanna handed her a glass. "Ouch. He sounds charming. Did you show him the   
samples?"  
  
"Yes! And he had the gall to contend that he had seen the same artifacts   
elsewhere."  
  
"He doesn't know what he's looking at!"   
  
"That's what I thought. So I tried to explain to him that the markings were a   
wholly unknown script, and he informed me that he was at a lecture last week in   
which IPX presented video salvaged from the Icarus, and this script was clearly   
in evidence."  
  
"IPX? Morden!"  
  
"That was my thought." She banged her glass down on the counter. "Now I know   
why he wanted to show those samples to his associates."  
  
"Did you explain this to Mitchell?"  
  
"And admit that I'd been conned?" Saada snorted. "No, I found other ways to   
embarrass myself. I let my anger get the best of me, and started raising my   
voice with Mitchell, who, of course, promptly raised his in return." She sighed   
and dragged a hand over the rigid muscles in her neck. "Oh Yani, that's not   
even the worst of it. Just when Mitchell was ready to throw me out, his   
secretary came running in with word that Hutcheson has had a stroke."  
  
"What? When?"  
  
"It must have happened while I was in Mitchell's office. I saw the professor   
just a few hours earlier. I went to him to ask him to back me with Mitchell."  
  
"I hope he did."  
  
"No! He did throw me out. He was livid when he heard I disassociated myself   
from Morden. Kept insisting that I had to go get back in his good graces. Told   
me I didn't know what I had done. He even told me this dig belongs to Morden   
and his associates."  
  
"Bullshit!"  
  
"Yeah, my sentiments, too, although I didn't put it quite that way."  
  
"Is Hutcheson all right?"  
  
"He's in critical care at the university medical center. I couldn't get any   
information. They say only family is allowed in."  
  
"Does Hutcheson have any family?"  
  
Saada shrugged. "None that I'm aware of. Oh god, Yani, what a mess this has   
become!"  
  
Aiyanna considered for a moment. "Look, I'm sorry about Hutcheson, but there's   
nothing you can do to help that situation. As for funding the dig, you can't   
just give up. So Morden has undercut you by passing the stuff he's seen off as   
his own. Fine. May he burn in hell for it. But you've got to go back to   
Mitchell - after you've both cooled off - and show him stuff he hasn't seen   
anywhere else because Morden hasn't seen it."  
  
"What? They funded the initial dig. They had the right to see everything that   
came out during that time. I didn't hold anything back."  
  
"Of course not. You have ethics, unlike some people we know. But that was   
then, and this is now."  
  
"Meaning?"   
  
"Meaning we go back out to the dig site and we find something that will impress   
Mitchell."  
  
"The dig is shut down, Yani. The crews have been released. It's a dead site."  
  
"Good. Then there won't be anyone looking over our shoulders. Come on, Saa.   
Let's throw our gear in the jeep and drive out there. We can rig lines before   
we climb down so we have a way to hoist anything heavy."  
  
"Yani, that's an untested climb."  
  
"Have I ever taken you into danger on a climb?"  
  
"Often."  
  
"And you loved it. Come on, Saa. Let's go out there and find something to   
knock Mitchell's socks off."  
  
Saada shook her head in the negative. "This is not a good idea, Yani," she   
cautioned. "Are you sure you can rig the hoist?" 


	4. The Price of Shadow 4/4

The Price of Shadow  
Part 4  
  
  
  
==========  
  
"Doctor Akirai?" He had not expected to be met at the port; he had not even   
given Aiyanna specifics on his travel plans. As Kijana's eyes moved from the   
identicard the Customs agent was handing back to him to the voice that called   
his name, however, he realized this was not a limousine driver. The man   
blocking his path was several inches taller than he was, muscular, and not   
particularly friendly.   
  
"Yes, I'm Doctor Akirai," Kijana replied calmly. "How may I help you?" He   
became aware as he spoke that the man in the dark suit was accompanied by two   
others of similar build, fashion, and personality.   
  
"I've been asked to escort you to the Ministry, Doctor. The Commissioner would   
like to speak with you."  
  
"I see. Which ministry and which commissioner would that be?"  
  
The man's scowl etched itself a little deeper into his face. "Commissioner   
Paoletti of the Ministry of Peace. Come this way please, Doctor." He stretched   
a hand toward Akirai's shoulder.   
  
"And you are?" Seeing the man startle, he pressed his point, his voice raised   
just enough to attract attention from others in the terminal. "May I see some   
identification, please?"   
  
An identicard was flashed which carried some notation about the Ministry of   
Peace, but it did not remain in sight long enough for Akirai to gather any   
meaningful information. He was escorted to a waiting ground car and ushered   
into the back seat. The man who had accosted him joined him there, while his   
two companions took the front.   
  
"Is she OK?" Akirai asked as they pulled onto the expressway.   
  
The man beside him looked further annoyed. "Is who OK?"  
  
"My fiancée. I assumed I was being summoned because the Commissioner had some   
concern about my fiancée." Kijana watched the men carefully for reaction.   
  
"I was asked to escort you to the Ministry. I was not informed of the reasons   
for Minister's invitation."  
  
The use of the word 'invitation' to describe this trip summoned a laugh Kijana   
was not staid enough to stifle. Still, he was guessing from the absence of   
reaction that these men did not know of his engagement to Aiyanna, and very   
possibly did not even know Aiyanna. That was good; it was better not to involve   
her in this.  
  
The drive was not a long one, but it did not terminate at the civic center where   
most government offices were located. Instead, they turned into the winding   
private drive of a residence on the outskirts of the city. Several more men,   
all meeting the same basic description as his escort, provided security around   
the estate. Akirai was escorted into the house and shown to what was described   
as the library.   
  
Any similarities between that room and a library were no doubt accidental, and   
Kijana felt certain that the Minister would be quick to correct them if they   
were pointed out. Heavy drapes hung closed over all the windows and though   
Akirai's sense of direction told him this room would face south, into the   
brilliant sun outside, no hint of light penetrated. The only illumination came   
from two wall sconces, the sole adornments on the otherwise bare walls. There   
were no books and no bookshelves. The only furnishings were the large polished   
desk at the west end with its leather upholstered swivel chair, and a smaller   
chair set facing the desk, almost in the center of the room.   
  
Left waiting for a time sufficient to be rude, Akirai surveyed the place in the   
way he had seen Terry Latimer examine his hotel room. He looked for   
microphones, cameras, and peepholes, and located a few good candidates. He   
speculated on the sparse décor, walking here and there in the room, turning to   
face what he assumed was to be his chair, imagining what the camera would see.   
  
"Please have a seat, Doctor," Paoletti said as the doors opened again. The two   
large men accompanying him closed the doors and took position to the left and   
right of, and slightly behind, the smaller chair. Paoletti himself made   
straight for the desk chair, wasting no time on false pleasantries.   
  
Kijana crossed to the chair, his saunter calculated to conceal the dread gnawing   
at him. If these people were going to get physical with him, he could do   
nothing to stop them. He could only take this moment to moment, and hope to   
come away with some information. And his life.   
  
His back had only touched the chair when Paoletti fired the first question at   
him. "Why did you return to Mars?"   
  
"To complete my research."   
  
"Does your research include assaults on government officials?"   
  
"No." He strove for an even tone. "Should it?"  
  
"You have been seen associating with known terrorists. Do you deny this?"  
  
"I cannot admit or deny anything, Commissioner, until I know what accusation is   
being made. If you..."  
  
"You have been seen associating with known terrorists."  
  
"I heard that the first time, Commissioner. Names, dates, times, and places   
would be helpful. Was I in Geneva with President Clark last Tuesday? No, I was   
not. But I have no idea who you classify as a known terrorist, or when or where   
I was supposedly seen with them. If you'll be specific, Commissioner, I'll be   
happy to answer your question."  
  
"You were warned, Doctor, that the path you were pursuing would put you in the   
camp of Free Mars and other groups dedicated to the destruction of peace on this   
planet and its colonies. Yet you persist, even escalate, your agitation."   
  
"Commissioner, I am a researcher. I seek out information. I do not ally myself   
with any parties in any disputes, political or otherwise. I simply seek the   
truth."  
  
"And exactly what truth were you seeking when you examined the financial records   
of Edgars Industries, Doctor?"  
  
It quickly became clear that Paoletti was well aware of every avenue of   
investigation Akirai had pursued. Question after question was fired at him, in   
no logical sequence, trying to shake him into some mistake, some admission.   
Questions were repeated, obvious challenges to his consistency and by extension   
his honesty. Akirai denied nothing and dodged little. He was not ashamed of   
his work; he had done nothing wrong. Did they expect him to level accusations,   
here, now, without supporting evidence or a proper audience? Paoletti seemed to   
know exactly what Akirai knew. What was it he wanted to hear?  
  
For hours, the grilling continued, and Akirai's requests for his personal   
papers, for water, even for the use of a lavatory, were ignored. He was not   
permitted to rise from the chair, or to remove his jacket, and after a time he   
could feel the combination of hunger, thirst, heat, and fatigue beginning to   
slow his wits. His legs were leaden; even if an opportunity to flee were to   
present itself, he doubted they would carry him.   
  
There was a rap at the door, and the man at Kijana's left elbow crossed to the   
door. Through the continuing verbal assault of Paoletti's questions, Akirai   
could not hear the whispered conversation behind him, but he saw Paoletti glance   
that way and abruptly rise and exit the room. He used the opportunity to fidget   
a bit in his chair, stretching cramped muscles, restoring circulation to   
deadened limbs, until a heavy hand on his shoulder stilled him.   
  
The Commissioner returned to the room but did not retake his seat. Instead, he   
stood toe to toe with Akirai, forcing him to tilt his head well back to make eye   
contact. "Doctor Akirai, I trust that you understand the gravity of your   
actions. This research is to stop. No, correction: this research has stopped.   
You will no longer pursue these matters.   
  
"This is a regional office, Doctor, and out of my concern for your fiancée, I   
have tried to keep this matter in the regional office. But you are attracting   
the attention of various parties in Geneva, Doctor, and they will not be nearly   
as understanding nor as reasonable as I. Theirs is not attention you want.   
  
"I will make no mention of this conversation to my superiors, nor will I mention   
it to Ms. Trudeau. I expect that when next we meet, undoubtedly at some   
charming cocktail party, we will chat about your impending nuptials, and how   
pleased you are with your move to Johannesburg. And I will be fascinated to   
hear the details of your newest research. Until then, Doctor, good day."  
  
With that, he left, the door slamming soundly behind him. Akirai sat motionless   
in the chair, not daring even to bring his head back to level. Why this abrupt   
ending? Why this interrogation at all? None of this was making sense. From   
outside, he heard the sound of a car on the gravel drive, and then it stopped.   
The sound of doors slamming, and then the car in motion again, fading away, and   
then returning, stopping.   
  
"Doctor Akirai?" The voice came from the library door. Kijana pushed himself   
up from the chair, but his legs buckled, and a blinding pain hit his brain. As   
the rich brown woods of the parquetry came nearer his face, they deepened to a   
featureless black.   
  
==========  
  
"Come on, buddy!" The unfamiliar voice seemed to drift into his brain on a   
barely perceptible breeze. "Come on, move it along. You can't sleep here. Get   
yourself a room." Gradually, Akirai was able to bring the source of the sound   
into focus. The security agent prodded him with a baton, and though the stab   
was gentle, it sent shots of brain to Akirai's brain.   
  
He signaled his understanding to the officer, and took stock of his   
surroundings. He was back at the spaceport, outside the Customs area, not 50   
yards from where he had first been accosted. His bag was at his feet, and he   
appeared unhurt except for a serious headache. He stood, somewhat shakily,   
checked for his identicard and credit chits, gathered up his belongings, and   
looked for transport home.   
  
He dozed on and off during the trip to Windhoek, his attempts to decipher what   
had happened repeatedly disintegrating into vivid nightmares. By the time he   
settled into a cab for the final leg of the trip, he was achy, exhausted, and   
nauseated. He could not remember when last he ate, but he doubted that he could   
hold food down. He just wanted sleep, he thought as he keyed the access code   
for his apartment, and he would deal with the rest in the morning.   
  
An ottoman whacked his shin as he made his way through the darkness to the   
bedroom. With an expletive, he kicked it back to its usual position. He had no   
memory of moving it, but he had not spent much time here in the last weeks.   
Dropping his bag just inside the bedroom door, he shrugged off his jacket and   
tossed it on the chair. The dress shirt, stale and soggy from too much wear,   
was peeled away from his slender frame as he lurched to the bathroom in search   
of an analgesic for his head.   
  
He could navigate most of this apartment in the dark, but he had no wish to   
poison himself on top of everything else that had happened. He adjusted the   
bathroom light to allow him to read the labels on the bottles. As he pushed the   
pills down with hard swallows of water, he studied his face in the mirror. He   
looked lousy, if he did say so himself. His eyes were sunken, ringed by dark   
circles, and he was haggard. Sleep. Tomorrow, maybe he'd see a doctor. For a   
moment, his thoughts flew to Terry Latimer, and he wondered where the man was   
now.   
  
Kijana's hand froze over the light switch. In the puddles of illumination   
spilling from the bathroom, he could make out snapshots of detail in what he   
called his office. The desk, bookshelves, and few filing cabinets in the   
bedroom alcove hardly warranted the title, but it was a comfortable workspace   
for him, and one that he kept in precise order. In the half-light now he could   
see drawers half open, papers spilling out. Documents were on the desktop, the   
chair, and the floor. In the bookcase, volumes sat helter-skelter, meeting each   
other at odd angles. Atop the desk, a tiny light glowed. His computer, though   
folded closed, was powered on.   
  
His concentration had not been the best of late, but he knew he had not done   
that. Carefully, he raised the room lights, and examined the chaos in the   
alcove. All his files had been ransacked. It would take hours of work just to   
resort and refile what was strewn about, before he could even determine if   
anything was missing. His books were widely out of order, as though all of them   
had been pulled down and then randomly restored to the shelves. Some were open;   
others showed torn or folded pages.   
  
Slowly, he slid open the bottom desk drawer, pulling it to its full extension.   
At the back of the drawer, on edge like file folders, stood a series of   
reference books. Few people even owned printed dictionaries and thesauri any   
more; such functions were computerized. Kijana Akirai, however, loved books,   
less for their utility than for the sheer tactile pleasure they provided.   
Tucked away in the back of the drawer at his right hand were dictionaries in   
several languages, thesauri, and technical reference books. One by one, he   
lifted them and set them aside. He stared, sickened, into the empty drawer.   
  
Before leaving for Mars, he had set aside the notes and documents not   
immediately necessary for the work he wanted to do during the trip. He hadn't   
known quite why he didn't simply file them, but yielded to his impulses and   
sheathed them in a black binder laid flat in the bottom of the desk drawer. The   
reference books sat neatly atop it, completely concealing it from casual view.   
Now it was gone.   
  
When had this happened? Was this how Paoletti knew all the avenues of research   
he had pursued? He tried to force a breath to the bottom of his lungs. What   
exactly was lost? He tried to be somewhat redundant in his record keeping, for   
safety, and the most important documents he had kept in his case.   
  
The air caught in his lungs and he lunged for the door. Stumbling, sprawling on   
the floor, he did not bother to right himself, but yanked open his bag there on   
the rug. Gone. All the documents that he had packed with such care, gone. He   
snapped open an interior pocket. His portable computer was there, intact. He   
scrambled to his knees, set the computer on the bed, and switched it on. It   
booted normally, and seemed, on cursory examination, to be operating normally.   
  
Akirai rose and returned to the desk. Carefully, he lifted the vid screen of   
the computer unit there. Not only was the unit powered on but it was logged in   
to the global net, under his name. How had they hacked his password? That   
wasn't recorded anywhere. He called up files. Time after time the same   
message. File not found.   
  
Paoletti's people had been thorough and precise. They had eliminated any trace   
of his research, but hadn't disturbed any other files. A spark of hope stirred   
in him. He already knew it was vain, but he tried a file recovery utility   
anyway. Not a trace.   
  
A long, slow exhalation served to calm him slightly, but also made him aware   
that the analgesic had done little for his headache. There was probably nothing   
he could do tonight. Perhaps there was nothing he could do at all. Perhaps   
Paoletti and the Ministry of Peace had won this one. He should probably sleep.   
  
Turning back to the computer to order a shutdown, Kijana's attention was caught   
by the blink of the message indicator. For a moment, he considered deleting it   
unread, suspecting it was another summons to Mitchell's office, but some voice   
told him to look. The message was in fact from Aiyanna and Saada, a mixture of   
good-natured teasing, loving concern for him, and sensible communication of   
their whereabouts and intentions. They were, they told him, going back out to   
the dig.   
  
He laughed at them as he deleted the message. An incomparable pair, they could   
still be as giddy as they'd been as schoolgirls, but heaven help anyone who got   
in the way of their intentions. Even now, with all the obstacles that had been   
thrown up, they were still fighting to make that dig happen. Still fighting,   
against all odds. He smiled as he pictured what they must have been doing now.   
Probably huddled in sleeping bags, staring up at the stars, trading dreams, and   
bolstering one another's resolve.   
  
Akirai fought through staggering fatigue to push himself up from the chair.   
Once again he rummaged through his suitcase, extracted his toilet kit, and   
lurched back toward the bathroom. A few quick splashes of cool water on his   
face and neck got the blood moving again. He could feel his head begin to clear   
as he stripped off the rest of his clothes and quickly washed up. Padding back   
to the bedroom, he rummaged about until he found clean clothes.   
  
When he was dressed, he stepped back into the bathroom, and from his kit   
extracted a small bottle. It snapped open with a crisp pop, and he shook it   
once and studied its contents. With one hand he unscrewed the cap on the bottle   
of pain reliever tablets, and poured them carefully into the smaller bottle.   
When both bottles were tightly sealed, he tucked the smaller one into his   
pocket, grabbed his car keys from the hall table, and set out toward the   
Kalahari, and Saada's dig.   
  
==========  
  
Akirai locked in the all-terrain drive; he had no wish to find himself stuck in   
sandy soil. With engine running and safety restraints in place, he paused to   
lower all the windows. The night air did not require cooling, and the rush of   
wind would help to keep him awake. For one more force on that front, he chose   
lively music from the sound system, and turned it up loud.   
  
It would be light before he reached them and he'd probably be too exhausted to   
be any use to them, but somehow it seemed right that he be with them. There was   
a feeling of solidarity and safety when they were together and he needed that   
right now. There was nothing that resembled a road out where he was headed, so   
he paid close attention to the onboard navigation system, and sang along with   
the music to keep himself alert.   
  
It was difficult to keep focus on the long straight run. The countryside,   
though strikingly beautiful, possessed a certain monotony, especially when   
shrouded in darkness. His mind tended to wander back to the events of the   
previous day and forward to a most uncertain future. He snapped himself back to   
attention, shaking off the latest reverie and turning again to the navigation   
computer. He was on course, and off to the East the first shoots of sunrise   
bloomed. He rechecked distance. By the time the sun was fully up, he should be   
able to see signs of the dig in the distance. He reached out to turn the music   
up.   
  
The searing sound blasted through his brain, an agony firing through his nervous   
system like a scream. Instinctively, he slammed on the brake, the sudden lock   
up sending the vehicle skidding wildly over the sandy plain. There was nothing   
on the dusty savanna to cause any impact, but several terrifying seconds passed   
before the car stopped. Though the source of the terrifying wail seemed to be   
gone, the memory of the noise and its effects stayed in his body. He flung open   
the door and looked around for the source.   
  
He found only darkness. Frantically, he tried to orient himself. The car had   
spun, but the first signs of sunrise should show him east. He turned full   
circle. Cloud cover hid the sun, hid the moon and the stars. Cloud cover he   
had not seen before, sitting low and ominous on the landscape. Black sky that   
here and there seemed to shimmer as if it moved.  
  
He was tired, too tired. Perhaps he shouldn't have made this trip. He could   
forgive himself a bit of paranoia right now, but he drew the line at   
hallucinations. With a sigh, he slipped back into the car, and checked the   
navigation system. Thirty degrees left should take him straight to the dig.   
  
The tremble in his hands as he adjusted the safety harness assured him such   
precautions were worth the time they took. Carefully, he pushed the car into   
motion again, easing it gently into the correct orientation. Ahead of him the   
sky shimmered, black on black. As soon as he got to the site, he would sleep.   
  
He searched the darkness for some sign of the dig site. His heading was right   
and at this distance, he should be able to see something, but though he strained   
his eyes, he could find nothing. Akirai winced as a brilliant flash illuminated   
the dunes. There was the site, dead ahead; he leaned on the accelerator. That   
lightening strike had carried tremendous energy. They might be in for a storm.   
Could that awful screech have been some distorted thunder? He had heard it said   
that the desert amplified sound, although he had always dismissed it as legend.   
Could it have any basis in fact?  
  
Another flash of light cut the sky ahead of him, and Akirai realized with horror   
that the strikes he was observing were not the jagged streaks of lightening, but   
the precision beams of a weapon. He pushed harder on the accelerator, willing   
the car to travel faster than physics decreed. Even faster, his mind raced to   
imagine what this attacker was or why it aimed its fury on the dig site.   
Another flash, and a new sound, low and deep, echoing, trembling through the air   
and through the ground, the rush of collapsing earth. The car leapt to its   
maximum speed, held there as much by the force of his will as by his foot on the   
pedal. The pace was terrifying but not so frightening as the thoughts of what   
he might find. Rough terrain did not slow him, nor did the reoccurrence of that   
paralyzing scream as the shimmering blackness melted into sunrise.   
  
Akirai leapt from the car before it was fully halted, scrambling to the edge of   
the dig where the safety lines were tethered. Before him, terrifying   
devastation tumbled downward. An entire wall of the dig site was collapsed,   
dirt and rock cascading over the carefully mapped grid work. He called, but no   
reply came back. Without waiting to rig his own safeties, he followed the   
existing lines downward, the ropes reducing his palms to bloody meat. The lines   
disappeared under piles of rubble. He called, and tried to still himself enough   
to listen for some sound over the pounding of his heart. He started to dig,   
clawing barehanded at the rock and debris. With both hands, he dug, like an   
animal burrowing, with each push of earth calling out a name, praying for an   
answer. He dug, bloody and breathless, until he found them.   
  
The screaming had left him no voice to pray. He fell back against the fallen   
earth, one broken body cradled in each arm, and he wept.   
  
==========  
  
He had always loved it here. It made him feel tiny, dwarfed by its   
incomprehensible vastness, yet not insignificant. No, rather he knew that here   
he was the most powerful being in the universe, for all of it belonged to him,   
or could, given time enough.   
  
He listened as his footfalls on the rutted marble steps echoed through the   
labyrinthine corridors, bouncing back to him from the vaulted ceilings.   
Pausing, he reached a hand out to fondle a favorite. The leather was smooth and   
cool, worn dry at the edges, its sweet musk setting memories ricocheting in his   
brain.   
  
Gently, he began to search, random at first in his attack, but soon he found the   
spine had its own memory, opening automatically to the pages that he knew by   
heart. These were words that calmed his soul, ideas that stirred his courage.   
Here a thousand times before he had found the strength to go on, the peace to   
remain. Today it would not be enough.  
  
The words lay unseen before him as tears washed his cheeks. Helpless and   
frightened he stood in the place where he sought his strength and comfort, but   
it failed him, failed in the face of the unspeakable horror, the unchangeable   
truth. He closed the book and hugged it to his chest, hunching over, folding   
himself in on the pain. Curled in a fetal pose, he rocked, seeking shelter in   
the womb of wisdom, but the library only cataloged his sobs.  
  
==========  
  
He had performed all the rituals. He had observed all the social conventions.   
Would he never be left in peace, he wondered. Slowly, Kijana Akirai pushed   
himself to his feet. The apartment was in semi-darkness, though it was full   
daylight outside, and stacks of boxes from Aiyanna's Johannesburg flat   
redirected the familiar pathways. Carefully, he made his way to the door to   
respond to the unrelenting signal. Probably another well-meaning neighbor with   
another casserole.   
  
He checked the identity of the caller, less out of any concern for his own   
security than out of the need to know what persona to present. The university   
people liked a reserved sadness still professional enough to talk a little shop;   
grandmotherly neighbors and relatives wanted a sweet young man who needed to be   
fussed over. There was no one to whom he dared show who he really was and all   
that he really felt.   
  
He moved quickly to open the door, startled by the face on the monitor. "How   
did you find me?" he asked of the slender blond man in the duster.   
  
Terry Latimer smiled. "I was the one who went through your papers, remember?   
You think I didn't make note of the details?" He rocked back on to his heels   
and forward again, awkwardly holding his smile.   
  
Akirai realized abruptly that Latimer was still in the hallway. "Terry, I'm   
sorry. Please come in. Forgive me. I'm ... I'm not myself." As Latimer   
picked a path between the boxes, Kijana adjusted the interior lights. He   
wondered if he should open the drapes, but the effort seemed more energy than he   
had.  
  
Latimer turned to face him, head cocked to one side. His eyes studied the young   
man before him and his voice was gentle. "KJ, what's happened? Forgive me, but   
you look like hell."  
  
Kijana was not quite sure when he started to cry, but tears fell steadily as he   
poured out for Latimer the story of Aiyanna and Saada's deaths. The ranger   
offered no platitudes and asked no questions. He simply laid an arm around KJ's   
shoulders as he listened. When the story was done, and the tears fell in   
earnest, that arm drew Kijana into a gentle hug. That silent embrace lasted   
until the tears had run their course.   
  
"I'm sorry, Terry," Kijana said as he pushed away, "I didn't mean to dump all   
this on you. Can I give you some coffee or something?"  
  
"Coffee would be great. Can I give you a hand?" He followed KJ into the tiny   
kitchen and perched on a stool while his host bustled about with the coffee.   
  
"So what brings you here, Terry?" Akirai asked. "You didn't come just to pay a   
condolence call." He looked away from the man, conscious of how swollen his   
eyes were and how easily the tears could start again.   
  
Latimer nodded. "I actually came to ask a favor of you," he explained.   
Following Kijana's glance to the cabinet above his head, he reached back and   
flipped it open, ducking the door as it skimmed by. He turned slightly to   
survey the contents and pulled down two mugs.   
  
"Thanks," KJ offered. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"I carried the information you uncovered to the people who are working on the   
antitoxin, and they're deeply grateful. They were close when I left them. They   
may have an answer already, thanks to you." He waited while Kijana filled the   
mugs with the hot brew.   
  
"Now I've been ordered to return to Minbar to make a full report to Ranger One."  
  
Kijana drank deeply of the bitter liquid. "Ranger One? Your commander?"  
  
Latimer nodded. "Yes. KJ, if you'd permit me, I'd like to take some of the   
files you showed me back to Minbar. I'll return them to you afterward, of   
course."  
  
"They're gone."  
  
Latimer's eyes jumped to Kijana. "Gone? You destroyed them?"  
  
Akirai shook his head and slumped back against the chair as he recounted the   
story of his homecoming to the Ranger. "Hard copy, data files - all gone."  
  
"KJ, I'm sorry."  
  
Akirai waved away his remorse. "Will this cause problems for you? Your   
commander - will he accept your account without the files to back it up?"   
  
Latimer nodded. "That's not a problem. I just wanted him to have a look at   
your materials. I thought that with the Ambassador's experience with EarthGov   
and the time he spent on Mars, he might see something we missed, make some   
connection we wouldn't think of."  
  
"Ambassador?" Kijana asked. "What ambassador?"  
  
A sharp inhalation marked Latimer's realization that he had spoken too freely.   
"KJ, I'm sorry. I..."  
  
"No, please. I didn't mean to pry. I understand the need for confidentiality.   
I guess, from what you told me, I had imagined that your commander was Minbari."  
  
"In the past, the post of Ranger One has been held by Minbari. Sinclair is the   
first human to hold the title."  
  
"Sinclair? Jeffrey Sinclair?"  
  
"Yes. You know him?"  
  
"I know of him. One of the few survivors of The Line. Some people call him a   
hero; others make insinuations about how he got out of it alive. He commanded   
the Babylon Station when it first went on line, and then he was assigned as   
ambassador to Minbar. Some people think his relationship with the Minbari is   
too good." Kijana poured more coffee. "He's your commander?"  
  
Latimer nodded and watched for Akirai's reaction.   
  
"Damn." He watched the steam curl up from his cup. "There's more to this   
story, isn't there?"  
  
Again Latimer nodded, but still he did not speak.   
  
Akirai took a long swallow and closed his eyes while the warmth of the liquid   
radiated through his body. "Well," he sighed, "if we can't show the files to   
Sinclair, how about the next best thing?" He turned toward Latimer's quizzical   
glance. "How about I go to Minbar with you, and tell Sinclair what I found? Or   
would that be a breach of security?"  
  
"I couldn't ask that of you, KJ. Your life is here. And especially now..."  
  
"My life was here, Terry. I don't know where it is, or if it is, now. I've   
lost my family, my future, and my work. What's to hold me?"  
  
The two men sat in silence for a few moments. "Are you under time pressure?"   
Akirai asked finally, his voice trembling. "The boxes are from the flat Yani   
found for us in Johannesburg. I still have to clean out Saada's flat."  
  
Latimer drained his cup. "I'll give you a hand, if that's all right."  
  
==========  
  
They made little conversation during the brief trip to Saada's flat and the   
unquestioning transfer of objects from their places in drawers and cupboards to   
cartons which pain would keep sealed. The silence invested the task with a   
dignity and a sense of ritual. Akirai wondered if Latimer had learned that from   
the Minbari.   
  
The ranger carried a box from the kitchen and set it by the door. Silently,   
Kijana surveyed the emptying space. "Just her office left, I guess," he   
whispered. Latimer grabbed a box and followed him to the work area.   
  
A few books scooped from the shelf filled the bottom. Latimer stood by as   
Akirai emptied the contents of the desk into the box, drawer by drawer.   
Finally, the young man gathered up the collection of small photos that decorated   
the desktop, and the still disordered briefcase, and set them into the carton.   
"That's it, then."  
  
The ranger handed him a square plastic case. "This was on the cabinet."   
  
KJ saw it only for an instant. Tears erased it from his sight as soon as he   
realized what it held. The explanation he tried to offer Latimer was choked   
with pain and rage. "Samples...from the dig." When he had control again, he   
thought aloud. "They were so important to her. I can't just throw them away.   
But I can't keep them, Terry. I just don't want to be reminded..."  
  
"I understand. A museum, perhaps? Or the university?"  
  
Akirai shrugged, stopped, shrugged again. He gathered up the box filled from   
the desk and carried it to the door. Latimer set the case down on the desktop   
and gently unfastened the lid. A chill ran through him when he saw its   
contents. Closing it, he crossed to the door.   
  
"Are you ready to go, KJ? Would you like some time alone?"  
  
Kijana shook his head. "Let's get this stuff back to the apartment. I'll throw   
some things in a bag and we can get ourselves to Minbar."  
  
==========  
  
Akirai waited just inside the doorway of the little anteroom while Latimer spoke   
with the Ambassador's assistant.   
  
"It should just be a few minutes," Latimer said when he returned. "Please, sit   
down." He gestured toward a polished wooden bench.   
  
"I've been sitting too long," Akirai replied, rolling his head in an attempt to   
loosen some of the muscle tension and the headache it was causing. They had   
come straight from the port to the Ambassador's office. Kijana felt achy,   
foggy, and rather grubby. Not exactly putting his best foot forward. And now a   
headache.   
  
They were admitted to the office in short order, and Latimer presented him to   
the ambassador. Kijana was not certain what he had expected of Jeffrey   
Sinclair, but he found himself surprised by the man's warm and unaffected   
greeting. He was even more startled, and deeply touched, by Sinclair's   
expression of sympathy. When had Latimer passed that message?  
  
"We appreciate your coming all the way to Minbar, Doctor," the ambassador said   
as they seated themselves round a conference table, "and I'm sorry our   
hospitality hasn't been better. We will get you a place to rest and clean up, I   
promise."  
  
Only able to offer a nod and a weak smile, Kijana let Latimer begin the   
briefing. When the specifics of the toxin came up, he presented what he had   
learned about the disappearance of the osbornite from the Martian mines.   
Sinclair's questions turned the conversation to the role of Mars Conglomerate   
and EarthGov in the acquisition and disposition of the material, a subject that   
led naturally to Kijana's experiences with the Ministry of Peace.   
  
"I'm sorry I can't offer you anything more than an oral account, Ambassador.   
The files are gone, and under the circumstances I have to assume the Ministry of   
Peace is responsible for that."  
  
"Of course, you can't prove that," Sinclair pointed out.   
  
"No, there's no proof." He studied the man, wondering if he had been unwise to   
speak against the Ministry of Peace.   
  
"They're careful to see that their work can't be traced," Sinclair explained   
with a sly smile. "They work in darkness and shadow."   
  
"There's something else you should see, Ambassador," Latimer added. He opened   
the travel bag he had deposited beside his chair, and retrieved a box. Akirai   
recognized the case as Saada's samples. He watched Sinclair pale as he opened   
it.   
  
"Where did you get these?" Sinclair's question floated in the air like dust in   
a sunbeam. So hushed Kijana was not sure he had not imagined it, it hung   
suspended over the room defying time's attempts to dispel it.   
  
Akirai's voice rasped over a dry throat. "They were excavated from the dig my   
sister had been conducting when she died. From the site where she and my   
fiancée died." He stopped to regain his composure and rubbed at the pain now   
throbbing in his temples.   
  
"Can we get you something for that headache?"   
  
"Thank you, Ambassador," he replied, grateful as much for the distraction as for   
the offer. "I think I have something, if I could just trouble you for some   
water." Latimer jumped to his feet and crossed the office to fetch a pitcher   
and glass, while Kijana fumbled in his travel bag. Terry set the water before   
him as he extracted his kit.   
  
"Do you realize what you have here, Doctor?" Sinclair asked, as KJ rummaged for   
the right bottle.   
  
He took a long breath. "Saada believed that she had found the remains of an   
ancient but advanced civilization. She had researched those markings   
extensively. They are completely unknown." Realizing that the bottle he sought   
was not in the kit, he tried to think back to the last time he had used it.   
  
"Not completely unknown," Sinclair said softly. He looked from the artifacts   
before him, to Akirai, and then to Latimer, who nodded. "What your sister   
stumbled upon, Doctor Akirai, is indeed an ancient and advanced civilization,   
one remembered in only a few places in the universe, and there with horror."  
  
Quietly, Sinclair spoke of a race of Shadows, a race old when human history   
began. He spoke of the evil and destruction they brought forth and of the Great   
War a thousand years earlier. "There are rumors that once they had a presence   
on our home planet, but those who tell the stories can only guess at where.   
Every location in which the Shadows were known to have hidden, throughout the   
galaxy, became desolate and uninhabitable."  
  
"The desertification of the Kalahari," Akirai muttered. His companions eyed him   
quizzically. "It is theorized that the Kalahari was not always desert. It's a   
savanna, a grassland, but over the centuries the ecology changed. Now, it's   
arid. There are pans - large clay basins where runoff and rain water collect.   
But the water is undrinkable. It's too saline even for the desert creatures.   
The ancient stories say it wasn't always like that."  
  
Sinclair nodded sadly. "I'm afraid that what your sister unearthed was a Shadow   
base, and the attack you witnessed was their attempt to make certain it stayed   
hidden. I'm sorry, Doctor."  
  
Akirai sat silent, memories stirring behind his eyes. "Ambassador?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"This Shadow race. You said few people knew of them. Is it possible that IPX   
might have encountered them in some exploration?"  
  
"Why do you ask?"  
  
"An archeologist who once worked for IPX helped Saada find funding initially,   
but once those pieces were brought out, his associates went to great lengths to   
shut down the dig. Doctor Morden was assigned to an explorer ship out on the   
Rim, a vessel called the Icarus, that went down on Z'ha'dum."  
  
Sinclair made no answer to his question. "Doctor, I don't want to frighten you   
but you need to be very careful how you conduct yourself when you return home.   
You clearly have made a few enemies of your own in the Ministry of Peace, and I   
fear you may inherit the enemies your sister has made."  
  
"Is there really a difference, Ambassador? You talk about a race of evil. Our   
government is creating weapons for genocide. How much more evil can a people   
become?"  
  
Sadness darkened Sinclair's eyes. "Be careful when you get home."  
  
"With all due respect, Ambassador, I think I am home." He turned to Latimer.   
"I told you I didn't know where my life was anymore. Well, maybe I do." He   
faced Sinclair squarely. "I understand something of your rangers, Ambassador,   
and of what you're trying to do. Not everything, probably, but enough to know I   
want to be a part of it. If you'll have me, sir, I'd like to be a ranger."  
  
Slowly, a smile spread across Jeffrey Sinclair's face. "What you ask is not a   
step to be taken lightly, Doctor Akirai."  
  
"Kijana," he said softly.  
  
Ranger One nodded. "You need to think this over, Kijana. Why don't we find you   
a place to rest and get cleaned up? You could probably use a good meal, too.   
Then if you still feel the same way, we can talk."  
  
"Thank you, sir." Akirai nodded and the simple movement made his head throb.   
Suddenly, he remembered. He rummaged through his bag again and located a small   
bottle. With a twist of his wrist he opened it and allowed a shower of tablets   
to rain down on the tabletop. "I had taken it with me the night they died," he   
said as he glanced inside the container.   
  
"I hope your headache won't need all that," Sinclair laughed.   
  
"It won't," Kijana replied. He rapped the container sharply against the palm of   
his hand. "And this may give us the proof we need," he said, offering the data   
crystal to Sinclair.   
  
==========  
  
Staying sober, Michael Garibaldi knew, was a job you handled one day at a time.   
Some days were harder than others. If he could make the next few hours without   
a drink, this day would be one for the trophy case.   
  
Not only had Mr. MacAfee of the Ministry of Peace started recruiting for the   
network of spies he called Night Watch, but he had signed up Garibaldi's second   
in command. But that's OK. There's a man down in the holding cell who's   
supposed to be dead, and a Narn in the cellblock singing opera. Sheridan is   
acting a little deranged, even for a man who's dealing with grief, and they just   
finished a whiz-bang little argument about regulations. And just to round out   
the day, he had quit his job.   
  
Where better to end this day than in DownBelow? He glanced around him in the   
half-light of the corridor before flipping open a rusty access hatch. The same   
motion that whipped his body through the hatch kicked the door shut. He stood   
still and silent in the musty compartment until a light flickered to life and a   
figure stepped from the shadows.   
  
Garibaldi nodded at the slender young man with the close-cropped black hair. He   
wore the tunic and flowing duster that had become familiar to Garibaldi and on   
his right shoulder the badge that marked Sinclair's rangers. The man bowed in   
greeting. "I am Kijana Akirai, Mr. Garibaldi. Ranger One has sent me."  
  
The Price of Shadow1 


End file.
